


A Game Of Dragon Balls

by Ultimatedaywriter



Category: Dragon Ball, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harem, Dragon Ball Multiverse, Explicit Sexual Content, Giants, Multi, Multiple Crossovers, Powerful Jon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-27 15:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30124845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultimatedaywriter/pseuds/Ultimatedaywriter
Summary: Sick with a fever Jon appears on Zamasu's personal planet. Thinking the boy a teachable moment from his master he decides to train Jon to be his attendant. How will the world deal with a morally good being with ki? Will Jon Snow thaw Zamasu's frozen heart? Can Jon resist blasting a hole through Joffrey's smug face? Find out all this and more on A Game of Dragon Balls.
Relationships: Robb Stark/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

Jon Snow stared at the halo hovering above his head. He reached up to touch it, but his hands passed through. When his head moved the halo moved with it. Touching it made him feel cold. Jon didn’t know if he liked it, but he couldn’t think of a way to get rid of it. 

The last thing he remembered was shaking, Maester Lewin saying he had a fever, his father’s stormy blue eyes, and the leaves of the weirwood tree. Now he was here, wherever here was. 

Purple clouds covered the sky and blue grass carpeted the ground ending at a crystal blue pond. White speckled geese flew low over the pond and the water erupted. Strange fish with teeth shiny like a bear trap burst out of the calm water and snatched the low flying birds. The water splashed across the shore as they dove back in with their prizes. In the center of the pond was the largest weirwood tree Jon’s ever seen. 

Long lazy limbs crept out over the pond covered in crimson leaves. Its massive roots jutted out of the shoreline and the face in the center seemed to look into his soul. Jon grabbed one of the roots and pushed himself up. 

Jon stepped back. He’d wanted to drink from the pond, but that bird wasn’t much smaller than him. He backed up slowly until he hit something. It felt like he’d hit a mountain and tumbled forward from the impact. 

“What are you doing here, mortal?” The words were spoken with an aristocratic tone and carried the same scorn he recognized from Lady Stark. Slowly, he turned around and bowed. 

“My apologies my lord, I don’t know where I am. I went to sleep and woke up here.” Jon said quickly. 

“Pitiful, you died in your sleep.” The Lord sighed. “That doesn’t explain how you’re here.” Jon’s eyes widened at the man’s words; he was dead. The fever it must have killed him. Bitter tears began to well up in his eyes. 

Jon didn’t dare look up and expose his tear covered face. “This sounds like Gowasu’s meddling. Another ploy to teach me the value of mortals.” Jon shivered at the darkening tone. “Raise your head, I want a good look at you mortal.” The lord said. 

Reluctantly, Jon raised his head to look the lord in the face. He hadn’t expected the lord to be a green skinned, pointed eared, and white mohawked creature. The purple he wore denoted him as royalty. Jon cursed himself for using the wrong honorifics. 

“I,” Jon felt himself freeze at this being’s gaze. 

“Hold your tongue mortal, I didn’t give you permission to speak. Your power level is pathetic. As you are, you’re unworthy to be the attendant of a kami much less a supreme kai in training. My master clearly means for you to teach me a lesson.” Another sigh escaped the prince’s lips. “You will refer to me as Master Zamasu what are you little mortal?” Master Zamasu said. 

“I’m a bastard lor, Master Zamasu.” Jon said. Gravity took hold of him and Jon tumbled to the ground. Suddenly, an immense pressure crashed down on him and he couldn’t move. 

“What a pitiful name for a species to call themselves. Very well Bastard, do you feel it, the planets gravity is intense for a mortal. Through my grace, I gifted you with a reprieve and until you can walk on your own, I’ll continue to give you my grace. This isn’t free, I expect you to grow quickly. Do you understand Bastard?” Master Zamasu said. 

Jon fought with all his strength to nod his head. Suddenly, the weight vanished. Jon rolled over and dry heaved on the sacred blue grass below. 

“Bastard this world is one of my creations it took hundreds of years to advance to its current state, I’d prefer if you didn’t dirty the ground.” Master Zamasu said. 

“Yes, Master Zamasu what will you teach me first?” His master tapped his chin before smiling evilly. 

Jon was taught not to complain no matter how hard his life got. No one cared. When Rob snuck food from the larders and blamed him, he took the punishment and didn’t complain. Lady Stark called him a bastard in hushed tones filled with scorn, but he didn’t tell his father. When Theon picked on him and beat on him in the training yard, he hadn’t told his father a thing. No one would take a bastard’s word over a true born. When his master attached straps to his back and told him to pull a cart like a donkey, Jon took it stoically. 

“Pull faster bastard, I plan to fish soon. Keep searching for your inner ki. I’ll know when you touch it, don’t worry.” Master Zamasu said. 

Sweat beaded down his face as he struggled to pull the cart. Every inch was struggle, foot a hardship, and yard a miracle. Despite how heavily he sweat and how hard he worked, he didn’t thirst, hunger, or feel tired. Despite how difficult it was to move the cart he could do it. 

His destination was a small hut in the distance. Jon concentrated searching for something and struggled forward. His nails tore away and returned with every hand grip. Pain from broken toes and turned fingers lasted for a few minutes before light from his master healed them. 

“If your hurt then I will heal you but don’t think too much into it. This is for my benefit. I’d like to reach my shed in the next few hours.” Master Zamasu said. Jon struggled to move forward. The injuries were piling up and wearing him out. Despite the healing and his quick recovery, he was wearing down. 

“Don’t forget to breath as I taught you. Slacking isn’t allowed from a deities attendant.” Master Zamasu said. Jon hurriedly resumed the breathing technique his master taught him and focused. His master said that there was power inside of him and if he could reach it then his real training would begin. 

Jon continued to search while he acted as a mule for his master. Eventually, he reached the shed and toppled over gasping for air. “Rest and regain your strength Bastard. I can tell by your size that you are young, but adequate work.” His master opened the door to his shed and pulled a fishing pole and a small bag out. Then he climbed back up the cart. 

Sweat poured down his face throwing his messy black hair in his eyes. His clothes were damp, and the cold breeze froze him even under the suns overhead. Shade from the purple clouds made him shiver. 

He raised his hand and felt it tremble. Every muscle in his body shook in protest. 

Jon stared at his next destination the pond. It was twice the distance from where he started from. 

The blue grass along the way was stained red with Jon’s blood. Small gouges from his hand holds covered the ground leading to the shed. 

“Rejoice, this is the hardest part of your journey. The beginning of your training won’t be easy, and you may grow to hate me because of it. Only by persevering can you hope to surpass your limits.” Zamasu said. 

Jon lowered his head. “Thank you Master Zamasu.” 

His master stared at the pond the grinned at Jon. “Remember your breathing and search hard for your ki. The harder you work and search the easier it will be to find your ki.” His master sat on the cart’s chair. “Get to work Bastard.” Master Zamasu said. 

The distance was far, and he knew what to expect. His body shook but he pulled the cart. It was heavier, enough to notice but he didn’t focus on that. 

Jon focused on what his master said. His every breath matched the technique his master taught him. With every gouge he made in the sacred planet of his master he searched himself. It was there his master said it was. He had ki inside of him. 

…

Healing from his master wasn’t cutting it anymore. Jon’s body shook and he teetered on the brink of collapse. His entire body rebelled against him. Pushing his muscles was becoming impossible. They burned and burned without end. 

He felt like he would collapse at any moment when he saw a light. It was a small thing. The light looked like it could vanish at any moment, but it was real, and it waited for him. Jon knew that this was what his master was talking about. The light was his ki. 

If he didn’t do something, he knew it would slip through his fingers. He reached out to it, but he was falling. The light was so close but so far. Jon charged after it and dragged himself through the dirt. 

This was something that Rob would never have. Theon could brag all he wanted but this was unique. For once this was Jon’s. 

Handful after handful of dirt passed through his fingers. Jon clawed himself after the light growing closer with each handful. He could feel himself getting closer. In the darkness, he clawed his way through rough terrain and couldn’t remember his master anymore. All he could remember was how to breath and crawl. 

Jon reached out and grasped the light. He felt a connection form and fell face first into the pond. His master lifted him from the water without touching him and tossed him to the side. 

His muscles still ached but he felt an energy course through his body. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt. Despite how tired he felt, Jon knew he was stronger. His master nodded once to him. 

“Rest while I fish for a while and Bastard.” Jon opened his eyes and struggled to a sitting position. “Well done, your actions have pleased me greatly. When you awaken your training will grow more intense.” 

Jon fought for the energy to speak. “Yes, Master Zamasu,” Jon said before passing out. 

…

Jon awoke to a strange humming and Lord Stark sleeping at his bedside. Morning light slowly crept in through the window and birds began to chirp. The crows began their calls for corn and the castle began to bustle. 

“Corn, Corn,” the crows called as the memories of Master Zamasu returned. 

He glanced up and felt disappointed, there was no halo above his head, had it all been a dream? The memories of that strange world and Master Zamasu hadn’t dimmed as dreams normally did. His body wasn’t covered in sweat and the blood from countless torn fingernails didn’t stain his hands. But one thing remained. 

Jon’s ki thrummed within him. Warm like a rare sunny day in Winterfell his ki filled him with hope. If it was real, then meeting his master must have been as well. 

Slowly, he closed his eyes and focused on the ki. His breathing soon matched his master’s teachings. In those moments of early morning Jon meditated for the first time. He didn’t know what he was doing not really. All he knew was that the ki within him was his and no one could take that away from him. For hours he basked in the warmth of his ki familiarizing himself with it. 

A strong hand touched his shoulder and all too soon he opened his eyes to the waking world. He stared up into the stormy blue eyes of his father. A smile spread across his father’s face. 

“Jon, you’re well again.” His father said. 

“Yes, I feel better. Father are you alright.” Jon asked. He could tell his father had lost some weight. Lord Stark’s cheeks were gaunter than Jon had ever seen them. His eyes sagged from poor sleep and even his hair was a mess. New worry creases appeared on his father’s forehead. 

Jon quickly realized it was because of him. He’d caused his father to neglect himself. “I’m sorry,” Lord Stark’s hand gripped his shoulder. He looked up worry crept in his veins like ice. Rarely did he call Lord Stark father, saying so was a reminder of Jon’s sinful birth and his father’s dishonor. 

Those stormy blue eyes met his own. “You’re my son.” Despite the warmth of his fathers tone he knew it was just in the moment. It was ironic that Lady Stark a Southern woman brought winter to any warmth between Jon and his father. 

‘Bastard,’ his master had called him not out of spite but of a misconception. What was he if not a bastard? 

Jon had taken the role as a deity’s attendant. Could anyone in the world claim such a station. 

The thoughts of pride left as soon as they came. Did the king’s man servant out rank a lord? No, he had only climbed to a slightly higher station than bastard after all. 

He felt his ki thrum beneath his skin filling him with power. The little ember was there even for a bastard like him. It was a bastard’s flame. He’d basked in it enough to get some feel for it. Now, he needed to stand. 

Jon slowly pushed himself from the bed. “Wait Jon, you’ll be a little week after your fever.” Lord Stark said. He paid his father little mind and pushed ki to his limbs. This was why ki was important. Just a little bit could put a bed ridden body of 12 back on his feet. 

One misstep nearly left him in the floor if not for Lord Starks quick reflexes. “Careful Jon,” Lord Stark said. 

Jon slowly took control of his footing feeling more like a newborn fawn than a wolf. He stumbled more than he would’ve liked to and his ki reserves were drying up fast. Soon the shakes from the other world returned in full.

It wasn’t as easy as on his master’s world. Each step pushed his ki to the brink to put his body back into shape. He concentrated on his master’s breathing technique. Each breath helped recover ki and soon, he made it to his wardrobe. 

“You’re doing well son,” Lord Stark turned to a servant. “Go get Maester Lewin.” Lord Stark ordered. His father helped him get dressed. 

Even in the castle during the summer it was well below freezing in the early morning. 

He couldn’t help but contrast it with the world of his fever dreams. Despite the green distant hills, the gray stonework of Winterfell was practically colorless. The red leaves of the weirwood in the god’s wood stood out from the snow covered rooves and gray stonework. In comparison the weirwood on his master’s world looked like just another tree. 

On a world were the grass is blue and the sky is purple why not have a tree with red leaves and white bark. 

The clink of chains alerted him to Maester Lewin’s presence. He was forced to wait as the old man walked down the long hall to get here. Every doddering step was met with a jingle of chains. 

Jon tightened his fist and felt his ki thrum through him while he waited. Every second he struggled and used his ki to fight and stay standing trained his control. Jon couldn’t wait to test out his ki in the training yard. Ser Rodrik would be surprised when he returns. He also wanted to find somewhere quiet and bask in the flame. Perhaps, the God’s wood would be a good place to meditate. Only father seemed to go there. 

Finally, the door opened and the Maester stepped inside. “Are you feeling better Jon?” Maester Lewin asked. 

“Yes Maester Lewin, I feel much better.” Jon said. 

Jon approached the maester on surer feet. His first few steps had gotten rid of most of the stumbles. It wouldn’t be long before he raced Rob across the hills again. He continued to breath as his master taught him through Maester Lewin’s checkup. 

“Are you having trouble breathing?” Jon shook his head. It took a bit of focus, but he would get used to the new skill. All he needed to do was keep focused. Soon his master’s technique would come naturally. The Maester checked his temperature and nodded a few times. “Lord Stark, Jon has made a full recovery. I’d recommend he eat light for his first meal, but he will recover completely.” Maester Lewin said. 

…

It was as he thought, the god’s wood was practically empty. This was the perfect place to meditate and get a better grip on his ki. He closed his eyes and began to meditate. Soon he basked in the flame of his ki and felt for his energy. It flowed gently through his body as he concentrated on controlling this new power. Moments later he felt a tugging sensation and was gone. 

Jon opened his eyes to a purple sky and a powerful weight on his shoulders. Even breathing was difficult. He struggled to lift even a finger but failed. Just when he thought he’d die he heard a flash and the weight on his body vanished. 

“Bastard I’ve been searching all over for you. Did you roll off into a hole somewhere? Honestly, you mortals are so annoying.” The tone in his voice was more scolding than scorn. 

“I’m sorry Master Zamasu, when I fell asleep, I was back in my home world.” A force lifted him off the ground and brought him face to face with his master. 

“You aren’t lying Bastard. But that is clearly a halo above your head. Was I wrong, or are you a unique mortal handpicked my Gawasu. Yes, the other option seems more likely.” Jon felt the force leave him and he landed on his feet. “Your ki control has grown sense our last lesson. But you haven’t had time to increase your ki. My attendant must be a shining example among mortals. You will be the ideal that all other mortals aspire to imitate.” Master Zamasu crossed his arms. “Well, you will be when I’m done with you.” 

“Do you want me to tell other about you?” Jon asked. 

“No, I have no intention of hearing my name blasphemed by mortals. You will stand as an example of what mortals can be. Even if you are a Bastard.” Jon felt shame creep over him. He knew it wasn’t what his master meant but it still hit him hard. “So young and humble Gamasu chose you well. We will begin with forms; I can’t have my attendant flailing around like an ape.” Master Zamasu pointed his hand at Jon and a beam fired out. Instead of hurting Jon his clothes were replaced with a weighted duplicate. He almost fell before he used ki to force himself upright. 

Master Zamasu worked with him for the rest of that day teaching him the forms for his fighting style. 

When Jon returned the god’s wood, he felt better stronger. There were so many new options to fight hand to hand. He looked down at himself and felt the weight of his clothes. They’d come with him.


	2. Training And Learning

On his way to the training yard, he heard birds chirping happily under the early morning light. Bits of grass bravely poked up from the compacted dirt growing tall in the evening only to freeze at night. They shattered under his boots on his way to the training ground. He didn’t notice the plight of the grass his concerns were elsewhere. 

Like a mantra Jon reminded himself to keep his strength in check. If he made a better showing than Rob or Theon, he might come down with another fever. For a southern woman, Lady Stark always brought winter to Jon. In that way perhaps she was a truer Stark than himself. Jon was just a snow after all. 

Jon took up a bow and quiver. The quiver was worn deer hide covered in patches from arrows poked through. Unlike the old quiver the bow was polished yew Theon claimed it was a man’s bow. Jon had never been able to draw it before. This time it creaked back the draw light as a child’s bow. He knew he could deplete his quiver in less than a minute if he wanted to. 

Theon liked to boast about his archery. It was a Greyjoy trait or something. He didn’t know a lot about that. Before his fever, he had been a fair shot. Now, dressed in weighted clothing he wasn’t sure. 

He held the draw, it felt good to use his muscles. Despite the weighted clothes Jon knew he could hold the longbow at full draw much longer than before. He released his arrows and hit the white of the target. The weighted sleeves altered his aim. Another arrow and an aim adjustment put the arrow in the far side of the blue. 

It took a lot of ki control to move normally with weighted clothes. Every bit of ki needed to be focused and then he had to pull back the bow. That added more difficulty to the problem. Sweat dripped down his face from a few minutes of archery. His master put a lot of weight into his clothes. 

Something began to prick at him. A nagging feeling stood at the edge of his vision. He felt like a flea had snuck into his pants. 

Jon continued firing slowly grouping his shots closer to the bullseye. He could do it if he put a little more effort into it. 

“I’d say the fever improved your aim. You should get sick more often.” Theon said. 

His voice broke Jon’s concentration. Turning quickly, he squared up on the older boy. 

Jon had power now even if Theon didn’t know it. He was better than Robb but that didn’t matter. He calmed the bubbling sensation coming from his roaring ki. 

“What do you want?” Jon asked in a tone mimicking his master’s scorn towards mortals. 

“Oh, someone’s touchy.” Theon sobered up quickly. “Rob and I were wondering if you wanted to go to winter town with us.” Jon stared at the bow in his hand then set it aside. He needed to get used to his weighted clothes before he’d make any progress with the bow anyway. 

“Sure, it sounds like fun.” Jon said and walked over to retrieve his arrows. 

“Race you to the stables.” Theon yelled and took off. Jon hurried to unstring the bow and put the quiver away before racing off. Running while maintaining his breathing technique was a challenge. Still, he nearly caught up to Theon before they reached the stables. 

…

He appeared back on his master’s planet to a surprise. Flying in front of him was a strange alien with butterfly wings on her head, pink skin, and antennae like a butterfly. She stared at him like a doe caught in torchlight. Jon didn’t know what to think and bowed waiting for his master’s orders. 

“Bastard, this is Morpho from the planet Rhopalocera. She will be your training partner until you outgrow her. To enhance your training, I’m going to release a portion of the planet’s gravity upon you. Begin,” Master Zamasu said. Morpho closed the distance in the blink. Her fist smashed against his face. Jon’s ki defense caved in the swing hit with the strength of a warhammer. 

The weight crushing him was unbearable. His clothes were heavier than ever. If he was going to fight back at all he needed to lower his weight. Jon reached up to take his coat off only for a familiar force from his master to stop him. 

“No Bastard, what would be the point of giving you training clothes if you were going to take them off.” Master Zamasu said. He wanted to glare at the smug green skinned man but didn’t dare. Jon was raised to know better than to challenge lords. 

Digging deep, he fought back to his feet. He strained to maintain the breathing technique and balance his ki control. Morpho shot across the distance and Jon feinted to the side. Using his master’s fighting style, he traded blows until a heavy punch slammed into his gut knocking him back a few steps. Jon bit his tongue and grunted then spat out some blood. 

His opponent hopped from foot-to-foot smiling. Her hands were up in a form reminiscent of boxing. Jon turned his body to the side as he was taught giving his opponent less of a target. He dashed forward going for a strike to her throat. She dashed to the side and smashed him hard in the face. Jon saw stars and took a step back. 

Every exchange was met with a heavy punishment on his part. With each exchange he relied heavily on his master’s forms. For once, he saw an opening on her part. She fell for one of his feints and struggled to pull herself back. Jon capitalized on the sudden weakness and went for the opening. His fist flew towards her exposed face and she vanished. 

A powerful strike slammed into his back slamming him hard to the ground. He felt bones snap all over his body. Jon stared at his arm, it was bent the wrong way and bloody bones ripped through his flesh. 

His mouth opened and a scream escaped his throat. Jon had seen this type of injury before. Morpho had crippled him. It dawned on him that he’d never swing a sword again. Tasks that he’d taken for granted his whole life would become insurmountably difficult. 

Then a golden light washed over him, and his master took hold of his arm and pulled it. Another scream tore at his throat when the bones fell back into place. He watched the wound seal itself. 

“You did well Bastard but remember, you are pitifully weak. Even this pitiful mortal was able to cripple you. She isn’t even considered a fighter just a citizen of her species, rather average actually.” Master Zamasu said. 

Jon bowed to his master. “I’m sorry to disappoint you Master Zamasu.” 

“Are you giving up? Now that you know a shadow of your opponent’s strength, has your resolve already shattered?” Master Zamasu asked. 

Jon struggled back to his feet and calmed his raging ki. “I haven’t given up master.” The flame of his ki roared to life brighter than he’d ever felt before. Giving up was never an option. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw the flicker of a red aura erupt around himself. 

He resumed his fighting stance and his weighted clothes felt lighter. Even the force pressing down on him wasn’t as terrible. 

Jon attacked first and threw a probing strike. Morpho vanished from his sight but he could feel her. Like a roaring campfire to his candlelight. He turned and blocked a devastating flying axe kick. The force slammed him down to his knees. Her wings flapped and she left his reach before he could grapple her leg. 

“No flying yet.” Master Zamasu said and Morpho landed unhappily. Jon resumed his fighting stance and continued the fight. 

…

“Bastard, I feel like fishing again.” Jon sighed and strapped himself to his master’s new two-seated cart. “That shed doesn’t have the right pole, go to the other one. Just follow the road and we’ll reach it eventually.” Master Zamasu said. 

Morpho was seated in a lower position than Master Zamasu. She stared down as Jon began to pull the heavier cart. 

“Bastard, don’t forget to breathe. It wouldn’t do for you to go back to bad habits.” Master Zamasu said. 

Jon struggled to pull more weight than ever. He didn’t have to crawl on the ground like a dog anymore. If he focused on long strides it would only take him a few hours to make the trip. 

“You will perform lunges with every step. This is about training your pitiful body not getting to my destination.” Master Zamasu said. Jon remembered Ser Rodrick the master of arms in Winterfell making him do something similar. 

He performed them as his master requested and ignored the intense burning in his thighs. Despite the ki reinforcing his muscles it still hurt to pull such a large cart. Knowing that his master had pitied him by making the cart lighter only made him work harder. Each painful lunge was another step towards bettering himself and reaching his potential. 

“Master Zamasu, what is lady Morpho’s planet like?” Jon asked. 

“It was created by the supreme kai before my master Gowasu. Flowers larger than my pond’s weirwood tree cover the world and her kind drink from them. Can you imagine it Bastard, a world covered in endless flowers and below these massive gardens lies vast industries? Skyscrapers intermingle with these vast flowers sometimes serving as support for them. That is all I know. Such a world is uninteresting to me.” Master Zamasu said. “Mortal you may speak to my student about your world.” 

“Thank you, your eminence. Well, there is plenty of sunlight and many martial arts schools. On the largest flower we have our world martial arts tournament were fighters around our world get together to decide the strongest fighter. Before I died, that’s what I trained for. But now I get to learn under the North Planet Lord and future supreme kai.” Morpho said. 

“In a decade there is a tournament coming up. Consider it a sending off celebration for me and a celebration for the appointment of a new planet lord. Many of the strongest fighters of the afterlife will participate. Bastard you will be my representative. Morpho can join as well.” Master Zamasu said. 

Jon hastened his lunges as a shed atop a hill came into view. Sweat drenched his body but he ignored it and moved on. The flame of his ki continued to roar through his body as he fought his way up hill. His legs felt like they were about to fall off, but he kept going at it. Already, he felt much stronger. 

“You will crab walk back to the pond.” Master Zamasu said. All the while Master Zamasu worked on his line and checked the hook. 

Jon made the trip back to the pond and collapsed on the ground. Every muscle in his body screamed. His ki cried out and shrunk down to a spark. Despite his growing strength, he was past his limit and couldn’t go any further. 

“Meditate and return to your world Jon.” Morpho gasped as Jon began meditating and felt himself vanish. He’d have some explaining to do when he returned. 

…

The wind rustled around him and snow began to fall. It was still a relatively warm night despite the falling snow. He could still see orange light from the setting sun. 

Jon shook the snow from his hair and stood up. 

For a moment he marveled at how light he felt. The ki flowing through him had grown to a rising campfire. It wasn’t anything compared to Morpho, but it was a definite improvement. 

By the time he reached the dining hall the sun had fully set. He made his way to the table and sat down. The old wooden chair creaked a little but thankfully didn’t collapse. Jon looked around. 

Arya jabbed her sister Sansa while Lady Stark prayed to the seven for thanks. Theon and Rob chatted away about one of the girls in Winter town. Bran sat beside his mother struggling to escape her grasp. 

“Where were you brother?” Arya asked the second Lady Stark finished her muttering prayers. 

“I was in the god’s wood meditating.” Jon said. Lady Stark snorted much to Lord Stark’s displeasure. 

“You look like you’ve been doing more than praying?” Robb commented. 

“I did a few lunges.” Jon replied. 

“Ah, well while you were meditating, and lunging Theon and I were sparing. You better get back to the training yard or we’ll leave you behind.” Rob needled. 

A smile broke out on Jon’s face. “I’ll spar with you tomorrow Robb, I shouldn’t spend all day meditating anyway.” Jon said. 

“You better or I’ll be stuck with Theon.” Robb japed. 

“Hey, you just want to score a few easy wins don’t you Stark.” Theon said. Jon noticed a small smile play out on Lord Stark’s face and Jon relaxed. 

He dug into his dinner like a ravenous beast. Before he knew it, his plate was empty, and he refilled it. His body felt like a bottomless pit. Once he started eating, he couldn’t stop. As he consumed, he felt the fire of his ki slowly grow brighter. Eventually even he reached his fill and put his fork and knife down. 

“Woe, I’ve never seen anyone eat so much Jon.” Arya said. The rest of the table had mixed opinions. Lady Stark looked on in disgust while Sansa tried to hide a giggle. 

“It’s like he just made up for all the meals he missed in one sitting.” Theon said. Robb elbowed the squid and Lord Stark excused everyone. 

Jon made his way to his room and settled down to meditate. The fire within burned brighter than ever before. It wasn’t just the training. Eating so much after the training had helped him. Somehow the act of eating raised his strength but only until he was full. 

Throughout the night Jon’s strength ebbed to normal levels but remained just a little stronger than they had been. 

…

Jon faced off against Rob in the training ground Ser Rodrick had given them practice swords, helmets and training armor. He couldn’t help but fall into a mix of the stance’s Ser Rodrick had taught them and his own master’s stances. There were certain points in the forms his master taught him where it seemed a blade was required. 

The old master at arms gave him a strange look but didn’t say anything. “First to three points is the winner. Start,” Ser Rodrick yelled, and Robb moved forward. Jon side stepped the probing strike and tapped Rob on the shoulder. Robb moved in slow motion to Jon’s eyes. 

Ki enhanced Jon’s movements as naturally as breathing. Even when he suppressed his strength, he was still much faster than Rob. Still, he could sense Lady Stark watching from a window. He let Rob exchange a few blows with him and take a point. 

“You’re one to one keep going.” Ser Rodrick said. Jon tried to suppress the flames raging in his body. They fought against his control like a bucking bronco. Concealing his strength seemed to anger to fire within. He gritted his teeth and forced the power down. It struggled and clawed at his control. 

Robb didn’t wait for Jon to suppress his strength. When the wooden sword approached his neck, Jon leaned back to avoid the swipe. His back foot found ground and he pushed forward. In an instant his eyes narrowed sensing the opening. Even as he tried to pack his power in his practice sword sliced through the air. 

Thwack! Practice sword met a joint guard hard but didn’t do anything else. Jon smiled grimly; he was just able to pull his strength back at the end. He refused to become a kin slayer. The power within him seemed to grumble and obey after that. 

“A good reflex if this were a real battle, you’d at least lose the use of that arm. At worst infection could set in if it isn’t treated and you’d lose the arm or your life.” Ser Rodrick said. 

Robb nodded and rubbed at his elbow. “Still hurts a little bit. It isn’t over yet snow.” They took up their stances. “Where did all that fancy movement come from?” Robb asked. 

“Would you believe a pointy eared green skin man taught it to me in a fever dream?” Ser Rodrick burst out into coughing fit. Water spewed out of his nose onto the snow below. “He apparently thought my name is bastard and drilled these movements into me.” Jon said. 

“Remind me never to get sick.” Robb said shaking his head with a half grin. 

Then his eyes grew serious. Practice swords clanged against each other as they fought using their respective fighting styles. Jon’s movements didn’t increase thanks to his energy suppression. He was able to match Rob strength and battle him with skill alone. 

Jon watched Robb for a sign of weakness. Holes appeared during feints, but Rob didn’t fall completely off balance. Jon wanted the right moment. Sweat poured down Robs face while Jon didn’t break a sweat. Still, he didn’t want to win through endurance alone. 

He led Robb on through a series of blows letting Robb move him toward losing a point. Jon had noticed a weakness in Robb’s stance. Before Robb commits, he overextends his right foot. The second the blow came Jon moved. He slammed the side of his heel into Robs inner foot knocking his brother off balance. 

This was his chance. He grabbed the wrist of Robb’s sword arm and brought his own blade up to Robb’s neck while his brother regained his balance. Robb stared at him confused and angry. Jon watched his brother’s face turn as red as his hair. 

“You need to watch out for your foot. Every time you go for a point you poke it out.” Jon said. Robb’s face was still red he glared at Jon but hadn’t said anything yet. 

“He’s right, that foot of yours was always going to get you in trouble. Do you want to go again and try to work on it?” Ser Rodrick asked. 

“How are you not tired?” Robb demanded. 

“I had a good night’s sleep.” Jon said and raised an eyebrow. Robb opened his mouth and closed it. Jon knew that Rob and Theon got into a lot of trouble and snuck into the wine cellar some nights to get drunk. That seemed to take most of the heat out of Robb’s anger. 

Robb patted Jon’s shoulder and walked over to grab a water skin. 

Jon looked up to see a glaring Lady Stark in the window. He never felt colder. The flames of his ki erupted filling him with power. Even still it did nothing against the bitter cold in his heart. 

…

Two years of training between Master Zamasu and under Rodrick had shaped him into a powerful individual. Over the two short years the people of Winterfell came to believe that Jon was a deeply religious young man. During that time Jon learned many skills. 

Jon continued to wear weighted clothes and even added orange training weights on his arms and legs. Each weighed a ton before gravity was accounted for. In other world he often wore a style of dress reminiscent of his master’s. The gravity to Master Zamasu’s planet had become comfortable. 

He flew across the purple sky under the rays of three suns. Blue ki blasts lit the sky as Morpho chased him through the clouds. Jon slipped through her blasts and kicked her through the sky before chasing after her. 

The flames of his ki had grown to eclipse her bonfire. Even wearing weighted clothes, he was much stronger than her now. Only experience separated them now. She was still better than him in some ways. 

Several blasts fired at him covering her retreat. He raised his right hand forming a ki blade. It extended slicing through the ki blasts before they could detonate. He blasted through the clouds after her firing ki blasts of his own. Clouds burst and shot apart as he raced after her through the air. 

She zoomed through a cloud and blasted him in the back. Jon let himself fall and she took the initiative. Just before she could deliver a powerful hammer strike to the back of his head, Jon turned and released a ki blade stopping it before it pierced her skin. 

He heard slow clapping sounds. He turned and bowed to his master. “Bastard you have grown miraculously in just two years. But now is not the time to celebrate. I have a job for you.” Jon didn’t dare look up. 

“There is a race on the planet Barbari that is stuck in a repetitive cycle of war. As my attendant you will go to this world and end this eternal cycle.” His master’s tone was filled with scorn that would make lady Stark jealous. 

Jon opened and closed his mouth. He wanted to speak out and say something but knew he couldn’t. Master Zamasu had taught him everything he knew about ki. He knew nothing about these Barbarians and couldn’t begin to know what to do. 

After giving the matter some thought Jon calmed down. He didn’t have to kill them, all he had to do was stop their wars. 

“Speak Jon,” Master Zamasu said. He froze. Master Zamasu knew his name. “Don’t be so shocked. We kai’s can monitor the entire universe. But we can’t act ourselves. You are a mortal and can act like any mortal can. I trained you to be my right hand and deal out order and justice to the universe.” Master Zamasu grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up. “I had my doubts about you Jon. For a time, I thought you’d use the power I taught you to make war on your world. Instead, you lived well controlled your strength and wielded it responsibly. You are my example for all mortals to aspire to.” Master Zamasu said. 

“How will I get there?” Jon asked. 

Master Zamasu opened his mouth then closed it. “I can’t take you there myself, it would violate the rules. The fastest transportation on your planet is currently you pulling a cart.” Jon grumbled but his master waved it off. I’ve spent so much time training you that I didn’t think about how to transport you. Relax, go back to your home and take a few months off while I find an answer to this problem. If all else fails I can teach you instant transmission.” Master Zamasu said. 

…

His father stared him up and down. Jon knew he was wearing his uniform. His master had gone all out in dressing him. The two patara earings dangling from his ears was one example of that. 

“Where did you get the clothes son?” Lord Stark asked. Jon sat beside his father. 

“When I meditate, I don’t stay here. I’m taken before one of the old gods.” His father looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. 

“Let’s say I believe you, why would they give you those clothes.” Lord Stark asked. 

Jon sighed and retrieved his trunk hidden behind a rock. “As with all things what we know isn’t close to the truth. The old gods are closer than others. Our universe followers and orderly system. Think of it like minor lords, prominent lords, Lords paramount, and then the king. Our minor lord or our planets guardian would be our minor lord. It’s their job to maintain order on our planet. Then you have prominent lords like or planet lords. They govern multiple systems throughout the universe. The Lords Paramount would be the grand Kais. Finally, you have the king the highest ranked creation god, the supreme kai. They ultimately have nothing to do with us. Rarely will any of us even deal with our guardian much less a planet lord. The old gods’ roots extend all the way to the higher worlds were the supreme kais govern. When I meditate, I connect to that higher realm. One of these planet lords have taken me on as a student.” His father looked at him clearly unsure of what to say. “Or you can believe I bought them in winter town and was probably swindled out of my pocket money.” Jon said with a grin. 

Lord Stark chuckled. “Where did the rest of that come from?” Lord Stark said while shaking his head. 

“A book on Yi Tish myths in our library.” Jon said and looked back at the trunk. “Say what you want about the strange clothes but their very comfortable for meditation.” 

“Still, your words before. Is that what the Yi Tish believe?” Lord Stark asked. 

“A few maybe but there are a thousand gods in Yi Ti. Still the Maester’s say the world is round and there are other worlds near us. Who’s to say there aren’t more out there? Are there others who see the stars as we do and wonder if we see them too?” Jon said. 

“Once upon a time you wanted to be a black brother and now you seem set to be a Maester.” Jon blanched only to see mirth in his father’s eyes. 

“Well before you ship me off, I’d like to witness a few more of Arya’s name days and maybe threaten a few of Sansa’s suitors.” Jon said. 

“A man of the night’s watch was found nearby. He’s half starved and mad. A deserter must face the king’s justice, but he keeps spouting nonsense about the dead coming to life. What do you think son?” Jon closed his eyes. It was a test of both his character and sense of justice. 

“Let’s say that every word he said is the old god’s honest truth. The white walkers are not only real but close to the wall. His entire team was murdered, and he got away in a panic. He bypasses the wall, maybe the dead blocked his way, and he couldn’t return to warn them. Now he’s done here telling anyone who will listen the whitewalkers are there.” He turned to his father. “He’s still a deserter and showing him mercy would be seen as weakness by your lords. This man must be executed for his crime but if his warning proves true perhaps giving him honor postmortem and rewarding his family isn’t out of the question.” Jon said. 

Jon didn’t necessarily believe that there were white walkers. Since learning from his master his degree of what was impossible and possible had increased. Master Zamasu may know more than him, but Jon wasn’t worried. The long night could come he’d blast them if it came to that. Killing a few million white walkers wouldn’t be a challenge. Still, he didn’t know which was fact and which was fiction.


	3. Execution

On a crisp summer morning Lord Stark called them to bear witness to an execution. This was Bran’s first time and Jon felt nervous for his little brother. Seeing death wasn’t uncommon but bearing witness to an execution was different. Jon had seen many, but he remembered his first most of all. 

There was a ceremony to it. Jon hadn’t focused on how his father moved before but this was different. Soon, he’d be in his father’s position. Ending a war without bloodshed was a fantasy. 

Master Zamasu had been clear his duty was to end an eternal war. The how was left to Jon but it wouldn’t be bloodless. Jon burned his father’s actions to mind, every step, glance, and presentation was a learning experience. 

The sword ice glinted in the morning sun. The rippled steel blade was a massive two hander large enough to bisect a cow. His father never had to sharpen the blade Valarian steel was always sharp. At the very least Will the deserter would die relatively painlessly. 

Jon had his own sword one that glittered even on a moonless night. His blade would never dull and could never be lost. It was given to him by his master as a sign of trust. 

Bran turned away and tried to bury his head in Jon’s coat. “Don’t look away Bran. You might have to do this one day. You’ll be expected to do it as well as father.” Jon said. He didn’t miss it when Rob and Theon gave him a concerned look. “This is an important part of honor.” Jon said. 

His father spoke in a clear voice. “In the name of Robert Baratheon King of the Andals, the Ryoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of Westeros, I sentence you to die.” His father said and swung the blade in one smooth stroke. There was no hesitation after the words were said. Jon pictured himself where his father stood and knew he didn’t quite fit. 

After the execution the witnesses broke up. Bran ran up to father. “Will I have to do that to?” Bran asked tears fell down his cheeks. Lord Stark look up at Jon a worried look on his face. 

“Not for a long time Bran. Jon is much older than you and so is Rob and Theon. Their time may come sooner but I hope its later. Do you know why I did it?” Lord Stark asked. 

“Because he deserted.” Lord Stark nodded. 

“Now imagine he’s right about the white walkers. He could have been a hero and warned his black brothers about the coming threat. Instead, he tried to escape and only mentioned the white walkers after he was caught. What if he’s right? It threw doubt on his words.” Lord Stark said. He looked up and Jon met his father’s eyes. 

“Father is right Bran. There was no choice but to execute him. He had many opportunities to turn himself in or return to the wall. Will wasn’t here to warn anyone.” Jon said. 

Jon turned his gaze north. Despite training with his master for two years his ki sense had grown slowly. Worse there was a wall blocking him. The tiny embers of ki belonging to an untold number of people living in the north ended at the wall. It was a curtain blocking his senses. 

Despite knowing the wall was there, he didn’t fly over it to take a peek. Jon wasn’t the brazen type. He knew when to be brave and when to look before he leapt. 

Morpho broke his nose once when he tried to peek on her skinny dipping. He stuck his head out from behind a tree and a pink fist socked him in the nose. Suppressing his strength wasn’t enough to hide himself when there were only three people on the planet. 

Master Zamasu was too amused by Jon’s misfortune to heal him. That pain became a lesson. It was a lesson Jon took to heart. 

Just because he couldn’t sense beyond the wall didn’t mean the whites on the other side couldn’t. If he showed himself to wary of them, they might make themselves scarce enough to fool him. He wasn’t sure if there were white’s or white walkers. It could be just the desperate ramblings of a man about to be executed. 

He’d have to speak with the world’s guardian. The guardian would know more. Jon had no idea where the guardian was or where to find him. There were powers scattered across the world some strong and others weaker. A guardian might not be a strong fighter. 

“My Lord we found something.” One of his father’s bannermen said. They took a deer’s path to a bloody sight. 

A wolf the size of a pony lay dead gored to death on a stag’s horns. She had died alone. Her pups whined attempting to nurse from their dead mother. To him they were tiny sparks of flame soon to return to the dark. Not all sparks could be coaxed into a roaring flame. 

“They won’t survive here, we should kill them and put them out of their misery.” Theon said and prepared to do just that. 

Jon shook his head. “My Lord they are the symbol of your house. Killing them might prove a bad omen. There seems to be one for each Stark.” Jon said. 

His father looked from himself to Bran. “Bran you will take care of him. You will each take care of them, not the kennel masters.” Bran rushed over to grab his and Rob was quick snatch the largest one up. Stark bannermen took the rest matching the exact number of the Stark children. 

Jon sensed a tiny spark hidden. One last pup but it didn’t make a sound. He reached down and found a white wolf pup. The second he touched the little cub; he felt a connection. A tiny fraction of his ki stoked the pup’s spark. 

“Looks like you have the runt Snow.” Theon jabbed. 

“Then perhaps, I should name him Theon after you.” Jon replied. Theon gaped more surprised by Jon’s return than the jab itself. A smile spread across his face. 

“I knew you had it in you Snow. But seriously, I don’t want to turn my head every time someone calls him.” Theon said. 

Lord Stark turned his head and winked. “Now that you mention it Theon sounds like a fitting name.” 

“I agree father, it is a fitting name.” Rob said. 

Theon opened his mouth then closed it. “I walked into that one didn’t I.” Theon grumbled. 

“You did, but what will you name him?” Rob asked. 

Jon stared down at the white direwolf pup. Even now Jon could feel the connection between them. A small amount of his ki trickled into the pup. He could sense other connections between Rob and his pup. Bran’s connection was stronger than Rob’s. 

“Ghost,” Jon said after a moment of thought. The pup’s eyes and ears were closed so the name wouldn’t mean much. 

…

Jon left Ghost in his room and flew through the night sky. He didn’t have a lot of time. Taking care of ghost had tied his hands. He searched for the nearest power as he flew. Some people had sparks slightly brighter than others. But not by much. There was one in the Riverlands that shown brighter than others. 

On a tiny island surrounded by weirwood trees Jon landed. The power was just torch on the wall compared to the roaring fire within Jon. 

One of the easiest ways to call out to another was by powering up. Red lightning sparked around Jon’s body as he stirred the fire within. Soon the full might of Jon’s ki erupted. Arcs of red energy spewed from his skin and his muscles stood ridged. 

A green blast shot out from a burrow. Jon swatted it aside sending it spiraling up. Instead of exploding its user made it dissipate. Jon marveled at such a feat. Dissipating a blast like that took a lot of control. The fighter he sensed hadn’t increased their power, but their control was shocking. 

From under a tree stood a pointy eared pint-sized creature with mossy green hair. She was naked and unashamed of it. Her eyes shined with bright green ki. She raised her hands and another blast appeared cupped between her fingers. 

“My name is Seed Greenseer and protector of the isle of faces. Leave here now dragon lord.” Jon moved at incredible speeds and appeared behind her. 

A kick to her back sent her smashing through two weirwood trees. Her attack dissipated as she settled in the trench dug by her body. Lake water rushed in to fill the ditch. She jumped up and scrambled to get out of the water. Mud gushed down on her before she gripped a root. The second the water touched her Seed’s power plummeted. 

She stared at Jon worry in her eyes. “Help me, don’t let the water swallow me.” Jon sighed and walked over to the pitiful creature. 

He grabbed her arm and hoisted her up. Dirt fell off the creature in great clumps revealing bright green skin under her dirt coating. He tossed her back on the ground where she proceeded to roll in the dirt. 

Suddenly, her power recovered. Her mouth opened and a green beam appeared. 

Jon slammed a knee in his solar plexus and watched as the blast shot out of her nose. As her body shot off the ground Jon delivered an axe kick to her back. The child of the forest slammed hard back to the ground. On reflex a blast appeared in his hand. He charged just enough power to destroy the island but nothing else. 

“Wait please, you’ve beaten me dragon lord. Do what you want but don’t destroy this place.” Jon let the blast dissipate in his hand slowly. 

He had more questions than when he arrived that wasn’t a good omen. “I’m searching for our world’s guardian. Do you know where I can find him?” Jon asked. 

She coughed and spluttered. Seed raised a bark-colored finger at Jon. “You are strong Dragon lord, but you aren’t worthy. The world will never accept you as its guardian.” 

Jon sighed; he could already feel this was a wasted trip. “That isn’t the point. I want to know about the white walkers in the north.” Jon said. 

She tilted her head to the side. “You seek knowledge of the demons. Why should a dragon lord care about them? Your fire is too much for them they are no threat to you.” Seed said. 

Jon didn’t understand why their threat level should matter to him. It didn’t matter if a dragon couldn’t harm him if it burned down towns and villages while he was away. 

For now, he decided to remain cordial. “I’m flattered really but that isn’t the point either. They haven’t been sighted in centuries and now they’re wiping out wildling villages and ambushing black brothers.” Jon said. 

No, he didn’t know if they were actually doing that. At this point it was all speculation. Still using a little trickery to get information could save lives. A child of the forest might know a lot more about them. 

“They know a time of great upheaval is close and attention will soon be far from their prison. They’ve timed the coming long night well.” Jon narrowed his eyes. 

“The king is healthy, his line is secure, and the seven kingdoms are behind him. He wouldn’t leave my father alone to face this crisis.” Jon said. 

See chuckled and leaned against Jon. “So powerful and yet inexperienced. You are a dragon lord, but I sense my blood in you. Great sapling long cast far from my loins; I can help you see. Come with me below into the roots of the world.” Seed said. 

“When you call me dragon lord what do you mean?” Jon asked. 

“You are the blood of dragons. I’m sure you can feel the fire boil your blood. That fire is fiercer in you than even the conqueror. But fire isn’t your limit. From my loins your forefathers were born. Come and see Dragon Lord, the roots of the world await you.” Seed said. 

Jon stepped down into the roots to see many children of the forest attached to the trees. Old men more wood then flesh shook with roots digging through their bodies. A green paste dripped in their mouths delivered by other children. 

“This is the fate of the weak. Only the strong Greenseers can resist the hunger of the roots. Are you strong sapling? Will you sit and awaken your sight? Can you pass the test many fail?” Seed said. 

Jon looked over the old men and children. The children looked to be better off than the old man. In fact, they seem to be growing healthier while the old men withered. Jon could sense power flow from the old men into the children. It didn’t take a maester to figure out what was going on. 

“You can’t fool me like you did them. My sight has long been opened.” Jon knew a trap when he saw one.

“They were all greedy fools searching for magic. Even when the roots dug through their flesh they couldn’t let go. We didn’t force them to remain in place while the roots spread through their flesh. Each of them lost themselves to the past the present and the future. We’ve ensured their power isn’t wasted.” Seed said. 

Jon stared at the seen around him. A question burned on his lips. What would father do in this situation? Jon didn’t know. 

He tried to remember what he could about the history between the first men and the children. All that came back was a simple fact of the treaty. 

The woods belonged to the children. Even if it was on this small island it belonged to the children according to the old treaty. If they were asked instead of forced, then Jon wouldn’t do anything to the children. 

For now, he’d stay on task. The whites were his most important concern at the moment. Blasting a few of the last children of the forest in existence wouldn’t help him. 

“They do not concern me right now.” Jon said. Seed seemed to relax after that. “Where can I find our planet’s guardian?” Jon asked. 

“Where your forefathers originated. Go to what your people call Old Valyria. In the remnants of the freeholds, you’ll find the battlefield for the throne of guardian. I don’t recommend assuming the throne. None of the futures show it in your future.” Seed said. “What is your name sapling?”

Jon stared at the scene before him one last time. “My name is Jon Snow.” Jon said. 

Seed’s eyes widened. “You are the rightful king Aegon Targaryen. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. You were to go to the wall, fight against the long night, and die in disgrace as a Queen slayer. That was your fate Aegon Targaryen.” Seed said. 

That told him exactly how useful their Greensight was. He’d take her words into account but do what he wanted. She knew nothing. This child of the forest must have drunk too deeply of the sap. His name was Jon Snow the bastard of Winterfell and attendant to the future supreme kai Zamasu that was enough. 

…

It was the welcoming feast and Jon hadn’t been invited to sit with his family. His spot wasn’t with his father’s bannermen either. Lady Stark had positioned his table to be with the hangerons. The followers of the king’s procession. Instead of feasting, he found his way to the practice yard. 

Jon relaxed his grip on his sword and flew through a few forms. He only moved a little faster and hit a little harder than normal. Splinters ripped off of the training dummy and the post within threatened to crack under his blows. 

Anger didn’t fuel him; he was just disappointment. He knew she hated him and saw him as an embarrassment. She might have thought that distancing him from the family would make her children hate him. He could have looked into it and found the root of her anger towards him. But that would take too much effort. 

Something in him stopped caring about what Catelyn Stark thought a long time ago. Still, the distance hurt especially knowing they would all be separated soon. He could sense it. 

At least Sansa would go South with the prince. There would be no more gentle smiles from his sister or questions about where he found his Yi Tish meditation clothes. Even if she was to remain, he’d leave soon enough. Jon had a job of his own to do. 

“I think it’s dead.” He turned to see Jaime Lannister. Jon couldn’t look away. The golden lion looked every part the king that Robert didn’t. He raised an eyebrow at Jon’s gawking. “Who taught you to move like that?” Jon sighed. 

He’d hoped no one would find him here. While he was alone, he didn’t have to hide his strength as much. Jaime had already seen too much for Jon’s liking. Already, sparks filtered in. Eyes had found him with many intentions concealed behind them. 

“Some of it was trained by Ser Rodrick Cassel. The rest I learned elsewhere.” Jon said. 

He couldn’t avoid Jaime’s keen eye. “I see that. There are moments where the gap between the styles open. Anyone competent could cut you down between them. You lack experience.” Ser Jaime said. 

Jon felt his eyes brighten at the prospect of help. “Ser Jaime, I have tried but failed to find anything that can fill the hole. The pause can be thinned but not surmounted. How would you close the gap?” Jon asked earnestly. 

“Throw me a practice sword and perform your forms slowly.” Jon froze for a second. “Quickly, my time is precious. I will be called to guard the king soon.” Jaime said. 

Jon shifted through his forms with practice ease. The forms taught by Master Zamasu were as natural as breathing. Then he shifted into the clumsy stances taught by their master of arms. It was simply a matter evolution. Master Zamasu’s forms had been sculped after millions of years passed from supreme kai to supreme kai. There were few points where the style taught by Ser Rodrik were superior. 

“I see, you’re trying to combine a refined style of hand to hand with a few blade strikes with a style that relies heavily on the blade. It seems that for the other style to work a sword must be in hand at impossible times. That’s where the styles clash the most. What kind of weapon was the style made for?” Jaime asked. 

“It involves magic supposedly. Only that blade has no handle.” Jon said. 

Jaime rolled his eyes. “The hole isn’t insurmountable. Either find this magic blade that can appear out of nowhere or supplement it with another style.” Jamie said. 

It wasn’t like Jon didn’t have the blade in question. Using it might bring more problems than solutions. Mixing his master’s style with another might be a better option. The hole always appeared when Jon turned his sword to parry, block, or swing. There was a pause in his stance like a rock in the path of his wagon wheel. 

“What do you plan to do with your life Jon?” Jaime asked. He tapped Jon’s blade and they settled into a slow sparring match. 

Jaime’s style was tight. That was the best way to put it. Not a hair was out of place and the man was fast. Many said Jaime was one of the greatest swordsmen in Westeros. Jon believed them. 

Maintaining the same strength as the man didn’t put them on the same level. Jamie didn’t waste movement, his sword seemed to search for holes in Jon’s guard of its own accord, and he strikes were always where Jon predicted they wouldn’t be. 

“You have very perceptive eyes Jon, and they will get you in trouble. I can see you predict where I’ll be and that tells me where you don’t want me to strike. That can be trained out of you. Have you ever thought about becoming a knight?” Jon narrowly blocked a devastating strike to his neck. 

“Who would take me as their squire?” Jon asked. 

Jaime pursed his lips. “You are passable. Combining styles can be a perilous prospect. You need to learn under a knight who can help you fill the holes in your style.” Jaime said. A smirk spread across his face. “It would take you away from Lady Stark as well.” 

Jon smiled sadly. He increased his strength and moved faster. Jaime grunted as he weathered Jon’s assault. Despite Jon’s growing strength Jaime continued to match him blow for blow. Words weren’t enough Jon had to know how deep the difference in their skill truly was. Jon upped his ki a little at a time. Their blows moved at a blinding pace. Sweat poured down Jaime’s face as their blows rang out through the training yard. 

For all of Jon’s strength and his own considerable skill Jaime held his own. There was a strength in Jaime’s green eyes that Jon had rarely seen. Jon could just overpower Jaime, but he couldn’t yet surpass the man’s skill. If he won, it would by a pyric victory at best. Jon lowered his blade. 

“I yield, I can’t beat you.” A smirk spread across Jaime’s face. Golden hair sticky with sweat clung to his face. Jaime let go of the practice sword. His hands shook while the golden lion drank heavily from an offered wine skin. Many onlookers had gathered to witness their spar. 

“Think about it Jon, become my squire. I’ll make you the most dangerous knight in all of Westeros.” Jaime said. 

Jon bowed not quite as low as to Master Zamasu but enough to give the man respect. “If you will give me some time, I’ll give you my answer.” Jon said. 

Jaime was an incredible swordsman. Even at four times Jaime’s strength Jon couldn’t beat him. That was an incredible difference in skill. But he still had a job to do and couldn’t always squire for Jaime. He’d also have to talk to his father about this.


	4. Let A Hundred Guilty Men Go Free Before An Innocent Be Punished

Candlelight illuminated the broken cobweb filled interior of the broken tower. Snow drifted down gently piling on Jon’s hair. Theon sat on the edge dangling his legs off. A little push would be enough to send Greyjoy hurtling towards the ground. Not that it would do much more than annoy the older boy. 

Rob hovered at the edge of the tower taking in the interior. “Do we have to meet here Jon?” Jon just glared at his brother. Rob covered his nose. “It smells like sex. You didn’t take anyone up here did you brother?” Rob asked. 

Keeping a secret from his father had been easier than keeping it from Rob and Theon. A few months after apprenticing under his master, they knew something was up. After training with Morpho he realized more training partners would only help him. With that in mind Jon taught them in secret. 

He was sure Arya probably knew something was up. She liked to spy on them when they prepared to leave somewhere to train. 

Flying allowed them to leave Winterfell to train in barren areas in the north. Fortunately, they always came back before word spread of their absence. A few camping trips also helped. 

Neither were quite up to Jon’s level. Even with teaching them how to fly and the basics of ki control they were rather weak. Training under high gravity with weights surpassed training with only weights. 

“I was hoping that was mold.” Jon said. 

A thought occurred to him. What if Bran saw whoever made love in the tower while climbing? The shock could make him lose his grip. Jon made a mental note do something about that. 

Rob flew higher. “Then, let’s take this to the roof.” 

Theon hopped off the tower and flew up to the roof. Jon waved his hand sending spiraling air currents shooting through the tower. All the candles went out along with most of the cobwebs. Jon leapt out of the tower and floated of to the roof. 

Billions of stars hung overhead outshined only by the full moon. The ice dragon stood bright in the sky with its eyes pointing North. Jon could confidently go anywhere in Westeros by using the dragon’s eyes as a guide. 

“You’ve been tight lipped since going off alone. We felt you power up and fight something. What’s going on Jon?” Rob asked. 

Jon thought about how much he could tell them. It wasn’t a lack of trust but a lack of credibility of his source. He didn’t want them to get carried away and think differently of him. Jon knew he was a bastard and every bastard dreamed of being more. Hinting that he might think himself more was folly. Jon didn’t have any desire to be king. He saw what kingship turned warriors into. The fat king came to mind easily enough. Jon refused to make that mistake. 

What would his father do? Well, that answer was obvious, he’d trust them. 

“My opponent was a child of the forest. But she wasn’t credible. She called me a dragon lord.” Jon grabbed one of his ebony locks and stared at both Theon and Rob. 

“Would it matter if your mother was one of Aerys’ bastards? You don’t want a throne.” Theon said. 

“That wasn’t everything. “She told me that war was on the horizon and the whites would take advantage of it.” Jon said. 

“She sounds crazy. If nothing she said is credible then what now? There aren’t many strong powers out there. What of your plans to go south?” Rob asked. 

“Do you have a crush on the king slayer?” Theon said. “Is that why you didn’t go for any of the girls in winter town?” Theon jabbed. 

Jon rolled his eyes. “He’s more skilled than any of us. I fought him with four times his strength and he still didn’t fall. That’s the level I want to reach.” Jon said. 

“What’s the point of swordplay when you can just blast them?” Theon said. 

“I don’t know. The skill to compete with someone four times your strength sounds amazing.” A small smile stretched across Rob’s face. “Father will never allow it.” Rob said. 

Theon laughed before getting serious. “If the white walkers are real then the long night might be real too. Can we afford to allow the seven kingdoms to go to war? If one child of the forest is that powerful.” Theon left the rest unsaid. 

“We don’t know what’s beyond the wall or their sensory range. That’s the problem, are they already aware of us, can they sense beyond the wall, and if so, how will they react?” Jon asked. 

Rob narrowed his eyes. “We already have plenty of scouts, their called the black brothers. They are the watchers on the wall and the first barrier between the realms of men and what lays beyond. Brenden the builder built the wall for a reason.” Rob said. 

Theon spat on the roof. “Its only eight hundred feet. I can clear that in a few seconds. If the whites can’t even do that, then they’re fodder.” Theon said. 

Jon shook his head. “We don’t much about the wall. Its secrets were lost to time.” 

“So, we have an unknown enemy who will attack when we’re at our weakest, a defense we know next to nothing about, and an enemy how might surpass you in power.” Rob summed up their situation well. 

“I say we go somewhere wild like the Dothraki sea and take a vacation before the war pops off.” Theon suggested. Jon thought about it and shrugged. They did have a little time between travel. 

“Alright, let’s take a three-day holiday in Essos before everything pops off. We can wipe out a few Khalasars, free some slaves, and grab a new horse or two.” Jon said. 

Rob sighed. “I’d feel bad if they weren’t slavers, but we don’t know when we’ll have time to ourselves once this war pops off.” They began to plan their trip after that. 

…  
Jon felt a call from the weirwood in the god’s wood. A thousand eyes and one stared at him from many greenseers. They looked on but Jon could tell they couldn’t affect this one. They could look but little else. It was his ki that buzzed within the branches, trunk, and roots of Winterfell’s heart tree. 

He had many questions. Were they always watched from the weirwood? Or were they certain of his fate already? How did they see? Were they limited by the tree or could they go further? Did the greeseers have limits? 

Greenseers are said to have many powers and the power to see the past, present, and future. He presumed they may have the power to influence events in history as well. There was some basis for it.   
Jon had used the weirwood to reach his master’s world and projected his soul. He didn’t know when he was when he projected his soul. It could be the present, the past, or the future. His master’s world existed in the realm of the kais. It was a space outside of theirs with a different but parallel time stream. 

Jon couldn’t pretend to be unaware of the greenseers. Weirwoods had always filled him with a sense calm, now he felt trepidation. The eyes of many were on him. Meddlers could freely mess with his past, present, and future. Have they tried to mess with the past already? What obstacles have they set up for his future? 

This game was difficult. Jon had to decide would he be a piece or a player. It would be difficult to play this game without seeing the board. To be a player would take him off it. 

Ignoring them was impossible, the greenseers had committing a crime. They were either unaware of it or chose to commit it anyway. 

Toying with time was forbidden. Jon knew he’d have to deal with the greenseers. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Two of the easiest and harshest solutions came to mind first. The first was to destroy all the weirwoods and the second was to attach himself to a weirwood. Neither option sit well with him. 

His master had hinted at a technique called multiform. It split the user’s power level to create physical copies of them. A copy could be merged with a weirwood and dispelled later. 

Jon’s thoughts were disrupted by the presence of his father. This was one of the few places the king wouldn’t go. Lord Stark took his own spot but didn’t say anything. Normally, his father would great him or place a hand on his shoulder in passing. This time his father passed him by and took his seat. 

They had a lot to talk about and no secrecy. Anything said here wasn’t private and anything said in Winterfell wouldn’t be private either. His next question became who would he rather give information to a bunch of faceless tree wizards or Lannister spies? The one Lannister spy who dared to come here had already been lost in the God’s Wood. Jon decided it, he’d find the poor boy after his conversation with father. 

“Father, I haven’t agreed to become his squire.” Jon said. 

Lord Stark turned to him. “Its what you want.” His father tapped the log beside him. “Sit with me son.” 

Jon stood up and made his way over. The eyes seemed to focus on him more than ever. For a moment, he thought about blowing the tree up. Before meeting Seed that thought would be blasphemous. Now, it was merely prudent. 

“There is something you must know about the Lannisters. Lysa Arryn believes they killed her husband, my good brother.” Jon stared at the weirwood tree intently. The attention of the eyes hadn’t increased. This was already ancient history to them, another section on the board. 

His master would laugh at him if a single testimony swayed him so easily. “The words of mortals are all equally worthless.” Memory Master Zamasu said. 

“We know nothing about the situation. What motive do they have to kill Lord Arryn? What benefits do they gain? Who gained the most from his death?” Jon asked. 

His father frowned. “You suspect Lyssa herself.” 

The words were said and allowed to fester. Jon let the silence draw out to let his father think for himself. It could be said that Jon was biased. Though his father would never accuse him of such. 

“Yes, and the Lannisters, we are too far away from the crime. Any evidence is most likely long gone. Where is Lyssa Arryn now?” Jon asked. 

“The Vale, Catelyn said she feared for her life. But why would she kill her husband?” Lord Stark asked. 

“I don’t know. All I can say for sure is that we can’t throw blame around. Justice must be slow and steady lest the innocent be slain. William deserted the night’s watch and ruined the credibility of a white walker threat. You had evidence of his crimes, a motive, and the right to pass the sentence. This time is different. One of the suspects has fled justice to the Vale, the others are of the royal family, and any other suspects are unknown. Both the Lannisters and Lyssa could be innocent of the crime. Father you have but a few words of a riddle solving it isn’t possible, yet.” Jon stared at the Weirwood. 

Not only did have a shot at becoming a knight, but he could also join his father in solving this mystery. He considered it a good test of his sense of justice. 

“I can’t involve you anymore than this son. Jon, I won’t have you spy on the Lannisters for me.” Lord Stark said. 

“Then I won’t, I’ll stay out of it and do as a squire should and learn.” Jon said. “Besides the Lannisters are probably guilty of other crimes, its easy to blame a guilty man for more crimes.” Jon couldn’t help but feel a man without honor was like a maiden with her virginity stolen. They were no longer whole and could never get it back. A man’s word was easily stained but difficult to restore. 

His lord father needed an example. “Do you remember when Rob used to blame me when he stole food from the larders?” Jon said. 

Lord Stark smiled. “He hadn’t even wiped his mouth clean before accusing you. I gave him double the switching for that. He hasn’t lied since.” A grim expression appeared on Lord Stark’s face. “Lyssa accused the Lannisters even as she fled to the Vale.” Lord Stark said. 

Jon wasn’t sure about that. Rob could lie with the best of them especially in the practice yard. He could feint and bluff holes in Jon’s guard with the best of them. Sure, he hadn’t or blamed Jon anymore, but that talent went elsewhere. 

“If they are guilty then they will face the consequences. Whether I’m his squire or not the law must be upheld.” Jon said firmly. 

Lord Stark smiled. “Of all my children you’re the only one who’s never lied to me. You’ve always chosen the more difficult path. Why is that?” 

He almost didn’t say the words. Silence would have been kinder, but it wouldn’t have been Jon. “There is already a black mark staining my honor. I doubt my whole life will be enough to wipe it clean.” Jon could only uphold what little honor a bastard could have. 

…

Jaime   
From his room, Jaime stared at the largest wolf he’s ever seen. Faint memories of a mention of the beast’s name came to mind. Ghost, it was named for its white fur, red eyes, and soundless movement. The memory came back it came from the same litter. He could already see some similarities with Jon. 

The warhorse sized wolf left a bloody trail to a shaded alcove. In Ghost’s fangs was a large stag its horns snapped off and the animal still lived. The other wolves approached the giant yipping and barking at the struggling stag. The great wolf let the stag free for the others to chase. When the stag tried to escape the white wolf caught it in its jaws. 

One moment the wolf was at rest and the next the stag was in its jaws. It moved too fast for something that size. Why was it larger than the others? 

He heard a knock at his door. “Come in.” Jaime said. 

“Ser Jaime,” Jon said. 

“If you’re here to decline my offer your silence would have been answer enough.” Jaime said. 

He knew what others said when they thought he could hear them. The whispers of kingslayer weren’t far from the golden lion. Stark didn’t like him, and the feeling was mutual. It seemed Lord Stark ensured his son wouldn’t stain his honor by squiring under Jaime. Jaime considered it likely that the new hand would ask Barristan to take Jon. 

“I’ve come to tell you that I accept your offer. I don’t know much about being a squire but I’m willing to learn if you’ll have me.” Jon said. 

That threw him for a loop. “Surely Lord Stark was opposed to it.” Jaime said. 

“He was but I convinced him. What now, what are my duties?” Jon asked. 

Jaime let a smile spread across his face. Stark was a fool to hand the boy over. He must not have treasured the lad as much as he should have. Even now his shoulders ached from their spar. The boy was abnormally strong and quick. With a bit more skill he’d be unstoppable on the battlefield. As a king’s guard his renown could reach even that of Arthur. Jon was the beginning of restoring the king’s guard. 

“Take the rest of your time before we leave to spend time with your family Jon.” Jon nodded and was about to leave before he stopped. 

“I don’t want to spread rumors, but someone has been having sex in the broken tower.” Jon said. 

Jaime felt all joy leave him and grew serious. Neither he nor his sister was mention so it might not be that big of a deal. “Go on, my duty is to the royal family, but this seems to have something to do with them.” Jaime said. 

Jon seemed to sigh. “Rob’s the one who noticed it. The tower is something of a club house for us. We can go up there and see all of Winterfell and the stars are closer too. Especially the ice dragon we sometimes climb on the roof and look at the stars.” Jaime raised an eyebrow wondering when Jon would get to the point. “Sorry Ser, I think Bran and Tommen have seen us go up there and want to emulate us.” Jon said. 

Jaime could see it three older boys climbing the tower talking about girls and watching the stars. Of course, the younger kids would want to emulate them. 

“Bran wants to be a knight and possibly a member of the king’s guard when he gets older. Hearing that he shouldn’t climb from me would only make him more determined but if Ser Jaime the golden Lion told him he shouldn’t, it might get through to him. I’d also rather he didn’t stumble upon whoever is having sex there.” Jon said. 

He’d keep it all in mind. While Jon left, he turned back to the window. The wolves had torn the stag apart. Ghost crunched the skull in his mouth while the others dragged dozens of feet of gut through the snow. Jon’s wolf looked up at him and winked.


	5. The Multi Form Technique

High above the clouds on the edge of space Master Zamasu stared out into the void. Jon waited to be recognized. Sweat beaded down his master’s face. Saying a word could break his master’s concentration and earn his ire. Jon meditated in wait for Master Zamasu to recognize him. 

An hour flew by before his master japed a finger at him. “I have no time for you. Delivering a spaceship to your world with a living pilot is taking all my concentration. Do you know how remote your planet it?” Jon opened his mouth but Master Zamasu slashed the air. “Don’t answer that. Its tempting to just create a singularity to pull your planet closer. If I could destroy them when their use ended I would do just that.” 

Why couldn’t his master destroy something he created? Something to think about later. 

He had other worries. Something bugged him. 

Jon pensively chose his words. His master had been good to him, but he had questions. “Master, why did you choose me?” Jon asked. 

Master Zamasu sighed and faced Jon. He flashed forward and Jon blocked the best he could. Ki sword met ki sword and they battled using the same style. Jon used his integrated northern style to go for a grapple. 

Battling his master was like fighting an illusion. Just when he thought he had the grabble Master Zamasu vanished. While their swords were locked, they fought one handed exchanging blows at supersonic speeds. 

The air shattered and booms threw birds out of the sky. Limbs ripped from the great weirwood tree and splashed heavily in the pond below. Lighting flashed above and the clouds rippled opening to expose the empty yellow clouds of heaven above. 

His master flashed away and kicked Jon hard in the chest. 

Jon shot through the air crashing heavily into the pond below. Red clay shook loose dirtying the water as he ripped himself loose from the ground. He burst forth ki blade aimed for his master’s unguarded throat. 

His master ducked and drove his elbow into Jon’s chest. A cracking sound rang out through his being. He felt two ribs nearly snap off. Jon threw his arm up to block a leg sweep that could have taken his head. Hi ki barrier failed and the bones in his arms snapped. 

Jon cried out in pain and thrust his sword forward. Master Zamasu grabbed his hand and threw him hurtling into the weirwood. A cry escaped his lips as he felt his collar bone crack on impact. 

This was the end. Jon knew it but he couldn’t stop. A fire lit in his blood it roared and burned. He’d fight to the end. 

Jon couldn’t move without pain. His shoulders were out of commission but he could still rotate his elbow. 

Flying was difficult. Hovering in place was the most he could do. Jon’s ki blade threatened to wink out but he didn’t lower his head. If this was how he died, he wouldn’t lower his head. 

The ki blade in his hand shrunk as he condensed it. Keeping it at its normal length wouldn’t work for him. He needed to get this right. The ki blade in his hand glowed with blinding light as he condensed it further. He changed his grip on the technique making it more comfortable. Jon lowered two of his fingers leaving only his prominent ones exposed. 

It felt like his blood burned and his ki kept began rising in earnest. The ki blade in his hand extended to the length of his father’s sword Ice. Ki balled around his hand as his formerly purple ki turned red. This was his last stand, and Jon would make his master bleed for his life. 

Jon felt a roar escape his lips as he unleashed everything he had. Lightning crackled between the two ki blades. His master smirked as they clashed using practically the same style. The Norther style merged ever deeper with his master’s style as they fought. 

With each clash Jon tossed out the useless pieces from both styles. There were parts of both styles that Jon didn’t need. He pushed more power through his body and searched for any weaknesses in his master’s form. 

Even as Jon’s ki rose he felt his stamina suffer for it. The red ki flowing through his body wouldn’t last much longer. His master turned Jon’s blade away and punched him hard in the solar plexus. Jon felt the air leave his lungs and shot backward. A wave from his master’s hand froze him into place. 

Jon waited for his master to finish it. “Jon, you are a terribly humble mortal. You have so much honor and bravery. Even when you have no chance of winning, you don’t flee or try to return to your world.” His master frowned. “Next time a stronger foe attempts to kill you, flee. You’re no good to me dead.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question Master Zamasu.” Jon said. 

“No, it doesn’t. When you came here originally, I thought you were a lesson from my master. My assumption was wrong, I was actually scolded for bringing you here.” Master Zamasu shook his head. “You came to me during a dark time but training you and watching you grow. It changed me for the better. You are the mortal I want to watch grow the most. If only that spaceship would get to your world in one piece.” Master Zamasu tapped Jon’s shoulder. All Jon’s wounds healed. 

“Not that I don’t enjoy the company but what are you doing here?” Master Zamasu asked. 

“I wanted to know if you could teach me the multiform technique.” Jon asked. 

Master Zamasu shook his head. “While it’s a useful technique it divides your power upon use. Are you certain you want it?” A scrolled zoomed out of a nearby shed. “There are many practical uses for the technique. I’ll warn you reclaiming your doppelgangers can be straining at times. I don’t recommend remaining split for longer than a month. 

Jon bowed low. “Thank you master.” Jon said. 

His master waved him away. “Think nothing of it. You’ve grown stronger again Jon. That wasn’t god ki, but it was the omen of something. Work on it. I expect you to take first place in the tournament. You’ve come a long way, but you only have twenty-three years left.” 

“I’ll try to meet your expectations.” Jon said. 

…  
Greenseer Jon

To Jon the weirwood seemed more like a hungry predator than a tree. Long snaking roots slid over his flesh dripping sap over his skin. Jon gripped the roots and they quickly wrapped around his fingers. Roots curled up his arms and spun around his body. They lifted him up into their embrace while he closed his eyes. 

His mind left his body and traveled through the roots. Jon saw the board but before he could touch it other hands spun it slinging pieces off the board sending it spiraling through space. He saw himself fall through and out. 

Jon appeared in Winterfell but not. 

Everything was covered in ice. He turned around to see a frozen shattered heart tree. There was little life left within the tree’s roots. 

He closed his eyes and flexed his ki sense. Not many lights appeared. Few remained in the castle. 

Rolling clouds of wintry fog blocked his path and snow flurries fell all around him. Visibility was extremely low. 

Through the falling ice and rushing wind he heard a growling sound. Something was out here in the cold, but Jon couldn’t sense their ki. 

Through the falling ice, he tracked it to little girl wrapped in torn bloody furs. If he hadn’t seen her, he wouldn’t believe she existed. Her body was absent a spark. Within her ki was absent. Worse she was the opposite. The second he approached he saw her body shiver. 

She felt like a hole in a bucket. Even now energy leaked from his body flowed toward her. 

The creature turned its head. A jawless frozen face screeched its blue eyes hauntingly deep reflected his appearance. She raised a mace and charged at Jon. 

Jon pulled he ki in tight and punched through the girl’s body. She shattered like glass throwing gore across the ice. More shrieks filled Winterfell. 

Creatures climbed over the walls and ripped up through the ice. Some crawled on the ground while others ran full tilt. Jon raised his fists and prepared to destroy. 

The scattered bodies of the dead lay in heaps. Despite their number the shear force Jon unleashed shattered their bodies. Like a raging bull in a china shop Jon destroyed them. None of the white walkers could withstand Jon’s undeniable strength. 

He took a step forward and paused a collection of various smolder sparks of ki gathered in a human shape. 

Turning his head, he saw an ethereal being. Its body was covered in an ice like armor, it wielded weapons made of ice, and it was beautiful. The creature’s face was angular like the children of the forest and its skin youthful. It looked like a southern noble’s son only with blue. 

What Jon felt a familiar spark among the collection within the creature. It was screaming. They all were. 

Thousands were trapped within the creature screaming in the cold. Tiny sparks smoldered under a winter chill within the creature. There were so many, even a few Jon recognized, and they made this creature powerful. The cold ki of this creature fed off the smoldering sparks of its victims. 

Jon took up his stance and shifted his hand to the position he needed. A long blade of red ki appeared generated from Jon’s fingertips. He could feel fire in his blood burning to turn this hellhole into a ruin. 

The creature cackled and shot forward. It raised its frigid ice sword high. The same frigid ki within the monster flowed through the ice. Jon raised two fingers and his red ki sword appeared. 

Jon lifted his hand holding the white at a distance. The creature’s armor melted off its body falling to the ice below. “Arya, let your soul be judged fairly in the check in station.” Jon raised his hand, pulled his sword free, and fired a ki blast. The white’s body shown as a black outline before vanishing. 

He walked through the gates of Winterfell to the practice yard. Bits of broken obsidian covered the ground stabbed through the skulls of Winterfell’s defenders. They chose to kill themselves instead of being raised. 

Jon looked up at the halo over his head. He was here but he wasn’t. This wasn’t his world. It was another board from another time. He wasn’t really here but beneath the roots of Winterfell’s Weirwood in the godswood of his timeline. 

He searched with his ki sense for anyone familiar. He found someone. Sansa was still alive. Maybe she could shed some light on what happened here. 

…  
Vacation Jon  
Essos was hot. Jon felt his balls sweat more the further they traveled into Essos. He didn’t want to know how bad it would be further south. 

Long before the three of them could have any fun they had to change clothes. Braavos was their first stop but not their last. They changed out their Northern summer clothes,for braavosi summer clothes. Jon wasn’t able to get his preferred black and had to settle for bright reed and a little blue. Theon and Rob had to settle for bright greens and blues. Braavos was weird. 

The men and women here didn’t look too different from most southerners. Only their dress was reversed the nobles wore darker colors while the lower class wore bright colors. 

Jon waved at some braavosi around his age. He moved to the teen’s side and tried to look meek. “Do you know of anything going on? We’re looking to crash a party.” Jon asked. 

One of the teens laughed and shook his head. “By that accent you must be a foreigner. What, are the pleasure houses not good enough for you?”   
Jon looked around conspiratorially. “I heard they had an age limit and I’d rather not find myself on the wrong side of the law. Are any cities nearby about to have a festival or a wedding?” Jon had heard no such thing but Morpho mentioned something about age limits on her home world. He’d also rather not buy a whore. 

The teen shook his head. “The gods don’t favor you. There is a wedding in Pentos, but I wouldn’t recommend crashing it. A Magister is selling a rare beauty to Khal Drogo. 

Jon, Theon, Rob flew straight for Pentos careful to fly too high for anyone to see them. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rob asked. 

“Would you rather buy a woman in a pleasure house and go home?” Theon asked. “Have a sense of adventure Stark. We’re going to this Khal Drogo’s wedding to fuck some rare tail. If we’re going to steal some horses, we could do worse than from a horse lord’s herd.” 

…  
Greenseer Jon 

The white walkers infested his home from the crypts to Jon’s bedroom. His home had been spoiled with the blood and offal of the dead and dying. Even his father’s Solar had been mostly burned during the battle. Papers were scattered and what little remained legible made no sense. 

On one paper he found a sigil of a dragon with three heads. The Targaryen house sigil but why was it in his home. Mention of a dragon queen on one didn’t shed much light on what happened. Why was Sansa in charge of Winterfell? Where was Rob? 

Foreigners gave their lives for Winterfell, but Jon didn’t know why. What drove them to come to Sansa’s aide. Who was the dragon queen who led them? Targaryen sigils covered many papers. 

Jon punched a hole through the ancient walls of his home. A great tremor ran through him. Where was his father, Rob, or even Theon? Where had he been when this happened? He could have destroyed them all. 

He clutched at his face as tears welled up in his eyes. Jon’s aura swirled around him as his power left his control. The room around him burned to ash and the walls began to melt. Stones hissed, cracked, and dripped from the heat of Jon’s aura. The wooden desk and the shelves burned to ash. Soon black ash spiraled around him while his aura raged. His tears evaporated on his cheeks. 

An unknown time later he regained focus. If there was anything he could have learned before, it was gone. He cursed at himself. His father wouldn’t have done something like that and Master Zamasu, would have gotten the full picture first. 

Sometimes, he felt it was unfair trying to match his actions to his father and master. His father was the great Lord Stark the most honorable man in Westeros and his master was the future supreme god of their universe. Matching either great man was a struggle at the best of times. 

Jon made his way through the familiar halls. Sansa wasn’t far, he’d find her soon. He ripped the door separating them from its hinges. His sister raised an obsidian dagger to her neck ready to slit her own throat. 

“Sansa, wait!” Jon shouted. She froze red hair framed her face barely hiding a long bloody slash across her face. He raised his hands and slipped through the door. 

Jon gripped her frigid hands and pushed a tiny bit of his ki into her. It would warm her a bit, hopefully. 

She threw herself on him wrapping him in a hug. “I thought you died. The night king stabbed you. I watched you die.” Jon looked away. 

“I’m not the same Jon. That Jon is probably dead.” Jon said. 

“You look like how I remembered you before we parted. When are you from?” Sansa asked. 

Jon smiled and turned to her. “You’ve become clever little sister. Jon shook his head. Still, I can’t imagine this night king beating me. His whites aren’t a challenge. What about father what happened to him?” Jon asked. 

“Joffrey killed him or will kill him in your time.” Sansa said. Jon shook his head; it would never happen. Even if he had to expose his power, he’d make sure of it. 

Jon looked out the window. The snowstorm worsened. “It’s a sign, the night king approaches. I’m sorry Jon, you have to get out of here and return to your own time. Fix this, become the king in the north and stop the long night. Whatever you do don’t trust me, I was such a stupid girl.” Sansa said. 

He turned to see the obsidian dagger back at her throat. “Don’t do this, I can defeat them. I’m stronger than your Jon could ever hope to be. I don’t need a crown, a name, or a title.” Jon yelled. Then he spoke in a subdued voice. “I don’t want to see you die.” Jon said. 

“Then turn away.” Sansa said and slid the knife over her throat. He tried to stop her. No matter how fast he moved he’d have to slow down to stop her. He watched the blade cut through her arteries. Seconds flowed like hours as he watched her life blood flow out. She crumbled to the ground. Jon screamed and pulled her to his chest. 

A realization struck him then. “This is all my fault.” When he powered up in his rage he’d shown like a torch in a dark room. The night king must have turned his army around and rushed over. 

Sansa was dead and information about this timeline died with her. There wasn’t a point in staying here any longer. Jon closed his eyes and returned to his body. 

Jon opened his eyes to the dirty hole he dug beneath Winterfell’s heart tree. Jon shook the roots and sucked in a breath. He needed to go back to the past of that timeline. The roots wrapped back around him, and he willed himself back through the roots. He knew which timeline to look at now he just needed to go backwards. 

…

The second they landed Theon split off and Rob left soon after. Jon wondered through the celebrating Dothraki until he heard a whistle. A copper skin girl around his age fluttered her black eyes at him. He approached slowly, cautious of the glares from the Dothraki men around him. 

One of the horselords edged their sword free as he passed. Their curved blades looked sharp. Jon wasn’t especially worried but once one guy started swinging the others might join in. 

Beating one guy swinging a sword at him could be considered a fluke. One northerner beating over a hundred men wasn’t. Word would get out and his father might hear, and questions might fly. That kind of fame was more trouble than it was worth. 

“What brings you to Pentos?” She said when he closed in. Her common was rough but her offered wine goblet was better. 

He edged to her side and sipped from the goblet. The flap to the communal tent closed behind him. “When my brothers and I heard there was a Dothraki wedding nearby we nearly killed our horses riding here.” Jon said and swirled the wine in his cup. “I’ve heard tales of them and had to experience one myself.” Jon said. 

She smiled and her shoulders eased up a little. “It is known that our weddings are dangerous. Andals aren’t known for taken risks.” Jon chuckled. 

“Did I misspeak?” Jon shook his head. He took a second to admire the large structure. It was made to house many people but could be broken down at a moment’s notice. 

“No, your common is great. I’m of the first men not the Andal’s. Where did you learn common?” Jon asked. 

The Dothraki glared at him from all sides but he couldn’t begin to care. Another Dothraki girl rushed in speaking in an angry rush of Dothrak. She pointed at him and glared. Jon smiled and sipped his wine. 

She swiped her hands and he leaned to the side to dodge her strike. One of the Dothraki men came over and a shouting match began. Several of their curved blades raised pointing and swiping at him. 

“It seems your brothers have caused trouble and you must pay for their actions. The blonde one stole the daughter of Bloodrider Assammo none can find them. For your red headed brother, the crime is much more severe. He’s taken a Dornish yellow cream from our herd. If you can not pay you will be gelded, and your right arm will be taken.” The woman said. 

Jon finished his wine and punched the Dothraki waving his curved sword around. The man dropped like a sack of potatoes. The nearest Dothraki swung his sword but it seemed to pass through Jon’s body. Jon punched the man in the stomach picking the man off his feet and driving him through a tent. Several slashed flew through his body. The men screamed, ”Maegi,” and Dothraki charged swords ready. 

His body moved on its own. One of the men galloped through the massive tent on a horse. Bolas flew everywhere and one snagged the horse’s legs. The horse smashed into the tent’s support beam and the tent collapsed. One of the lamps within the tent fell over and caught the tent on fire. The flames blocked the exit and Jon spotted the two Dothraki girls stuck in the burning tent. A bola passed through his legs as he snatched up the two Dothraki girls. A glance on his part tore open a section of the tent and he leapt out and flew away using the smoke as cover. Both girls beat against him as he flew. 

Jon found a cave and let them down. “Well, I didn’t expect them to steal a horse, a woman, and leave me with the consequences.” 

“Why did you steal us?” The woman asked. 

“Well at least you aren’t asking about why I can fly.” Jon said and shook his head. “Most of it was in the moment.” Jon said. 

“We are daughters of Khal Drogo’s bloodriders. No maegi can withstand the Khalasar of Khal Drogo, it is known.” She said. 

“When they find me how are they going to fight me? Their horses can’t fly, their swords can’t reach me, and I can go anywhere I wish.” Jon stared out the caves mouth. “What are your names?” 

“I’m Hossi and she is Ayi. What are you after?” Hossi asked. 

Jon rolled his eyes. “I told you before.” 

Ayi screamed something rapid then walked up to Jon. Her long eyelashes fluttered while she slipped off her leather vest. In the low light of the cave Jon saw her exposed breasts and dark nipples. Slowly those nipples rose flush with blood either from the cold or something else. With one quick movement she pulled a knife free and stabbed him. 

The knife stopped well before it damaged his skin. Cracks appeared on the blade where his ki didn’t play nice. Ayi dropped the knife and grabbed his pants yanking them down quickly. 

Lemon Start 

She looked up at him while she brought his tip to her dark lips. At first, she kissed him repeatedly. Each kiss drew him inside her while her tongue licked at his head. “gizikhven,” she whispered and licked his tip. Jon felt the heat from her breath as she eased him past her lips. All the while her tongue lapped at his head driving small burst of pleasure through his shaft. 

“She said she’d either kill you or fuck you. One path is impossible for us.” Hossi said. 

Hossi slowly stripped off her leathers and approached him. Small tufts of black hair barely covered her modesty. Hossi moved in close her breasts pushed against his muscular chest. She slipped her soft hands around his back and brought her lips to his. All the while Ayi sucked her at his cock. 

In those sweet moments Jon relaxed and Ayi pulled away only to turn around to line herself up. Jon felt himself touch a barrier before a push from Ayi tore him through it. She said something in Dothraki before ramming backwards. Jon thrust his hips forward while Hossi continued to make out with him. 

Jon reached down between Hossi’s coppery thighs and slipped his fingers between her soft nether lips. The dark sensitive skin submitted to his touch and she gasped when he thrust them into her. Hossi traded tongues with him while he worked his fingers through her. Ayi took more of his member sinking all the way to his base. 

Moments later he came in a woman for the first time. Ayi screamed and thrust her hips harder against him. She hopped off him after that and crossed her legs to keep his seed inside of her. For some reason it brought a sense of satisfaction to Jon. He wasn’t a lord or a king. All he had to pass on was his training and techniques. Did it matter if they were true born or not if they all inherited the same? 

Jon lifted Hossi off her feet and slid inside of her. The same barrier stood in his way for a time. She nodded her head and he thrust forward. Hossi screamed as he buried himself inside of her. Jon lowered his face to her chest and nuzzled her breasts while he thrust hard into her. She gasped and shrieked while he pounded her roughly. Something roared in his blood. It wanted to spread far and wide. He felt better than ever to burst inside of her. Like Ayi, she crossed her legs when he finished. 

Hossi laid beside Ayi huffing while Jon felt unfulfilled. A part of him felt sad there were only two. “Are you not satisfied?” Jon smiled and felt himself harden again.


	6. To Build A Force

Vacation Jon

Sweat poured from his brow as he worked an unused, muscle. Jon’s hand reached out shaking as if he were seizing something far away. His face scrunched up in concentration while he exorcised a skill he hadn’t trained before. While his body shook, Jon’s hair stood on end while pebbles floated around him. Whispers of maegi slipped between Hossi and Ayi with each word in their hushed Dothraki another bead of sweat slammed on the floor of their sandstone refuge. 

Droplets of sea spray hovered outside the cave. Telekinesis was the power of the strong. His master could stop him with it. Jon struggled to keep a few drops of water afloat. The rocks floating around him and even his hair stood on end, but it was more a sign of inexperience than power. Still the two Dothraki girls were entertained by his attempts to keep the droplets afloat. 

Just when he began moving the droplets in a circle Robb’s shot into the cave. The droplets fell and Jon stomped the ground and roared at the top of his lungs. The cave shook threatening to collapse before two copper skinned beauties slammed into his back. He quickly pulled back his raging ki and the fire inside seemed to help him rein in his might. 

“Please Khal Jon don’t be angry.” The cave’s shaking slowed with the reining in of his ki until it stopped just as he focused on his surroundings. 

He ignored his brother. Even the silver hair of the girl in Robb’s arms didn’t matter. His girls would get his attention first before his bone headed brother. 

Jon smiled gently at the worried faces of Hossi and Ayi. Hossi had a slight scar on her nose that barely distracted from her beauty. Her nose was a bit pointy like a proud tropical bird and in her eyebrows were tiny iron rings. Tiny bells hung in her hair jingling her own tune. Ayi didn’t know common or pretended not to. She kept her hair short and wore red dye on her lips. Some of it had smudged off when she sucked his cock before. A few rings lined her ears and around her neck a string of black pearls hung freely. Each had eyes shining with equal parts cunning and caring. They had braved his anger immediately and even called his Khal Jon. It made him feel both embarrassed and prideful. Undoubtedly, they fluffed his ego to gain his favor. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you two. My brother caused a lot of trouble for us and I think he made things worse.” Jon said gently. Hossi quickly repeated his words to Ayi. 

Jon stared at the woman Daenerys Targaryen. Every strand of her hair glimmered the silvery gold of spun moon beams. Deep pools of violet large and frightful greeted him glancing between Robb and himself. Undoubtedly, her world view had changed. No longer were the likes of Robert Baratheon and Khal Drogo the giants of men when boys could fly and destroy cities. He wouldn’t presume to guess her thoughts. Glancing them with a touch was out of his skill level. 

“Robb please tell me you didn’t steal Khal Drogo’s wife.” Jon said. 

“What are you talking about brother? They were never consummated their marriage.” Robb said and walked over to a good-sized boulder. 

He bent his hands till the midpoint of his fingers extended like knifes. A slight gathering of ki made them glow with sickly green light. Carefully Robb jabbed at the boulder and sections peeled off it in moments he did the work it would take ten stone mason’s hours to accomplish. Soon, a stone throne took shape. Robb quickly sat upon it after tossing the cut parts off to the side. 

“Daenerys, I can return you to your wedding. My brother only meant to play a wedding prank on your husband the good Khal Drogo. I can help return you to him, I’d hate for you to miss your wedding night.” Jon said and looked back to see Hossi nodding her head while Ayi stared blankly between Daenerys and Robb. 

“No, I’ve fallen in love with her. She’ll be the next Lady Stark; I’ve already decided it.” Jon felt a migrane coming along and rubbed his temples. They were supposed to have a nice vacation in Essos far away from Westeros. 

“How old are you?” Jon asked. 

“I’m 13 your,” she glanced at Robb for an answer. 

“We are on vacation from politics just call me Robb and my brother Jon. But for future reference my brother was born out of wedlock, but for future reference he is a squire so Ser Jon soon enough.” She straightened as a little fire erupted in her eyes. 

“I am Daenerys, and my brother is the rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.” She said with a little force. 

“The Targaryens owe house Stark a bride and I plan to collect.” Robb declared. “This will piss Joffrey off fiercely and King Robert would never harm a Stark. My Lady, you’ll have to renounce your claim to the throne and our line’s claim as well.” Robb said. 

Jon slammed his head against the wall of the cave causing it to shake. “Please calm your anger Khal Jon.” Hossi said. Jon gripped and wall and felt the stone crumble in his hands. It wasn’t satisfying, he wanted to break something more durable. He thrust his hand dangerously at Robb. “How in the HFIL are we going to explain this to our father?” 

Robb pointed to Hossi and Ayi. “What about them?” Robb said. 

Jon rolled his eyes. “I’m a bastard, my honor is already stained. Taking two wives or twenty wouldn’t damage my honor more than it already is.” Hossi gasped and said something to Ayi. 

Robb shot up from his makeshift throne. “That can’t be what you believe. You’re practically father born again. Its scary how similar the two of you are.” 

“We did not expect you to marry us.” Hossi said. 

“Jon walked up to her and grasped her callused hands. She’d spent many years riding and it showed with her firm strong hands.” I know I’m a bastard and its an insult for a lord’s daughter to marry me, but will you have me.” Jon said. 

“You are our Khal marrying you is never an insult, it is known.” Hossi said Ayi nodded even thought Jon was sure she didn’t know what was going on. A lot of Jon’s worry left him at her words. He pulled her and Ayi close. They’d have a rude awakening when they came north. They not only come from vastly different cultures but from far warmer weather. He’d studied a bit about the horse lords before coming. 

A lot of his worry settled down. He felt strangely. Something in the back of his mind, the memories of his green dreams came unbidden. Not a tear rolled down his cheeks, he’d cried enough. A frozen world and Daenerys Targaryen came to mind and settled in. His other body had created another clone and dispelled itself sending most of its power into the new body. 

The white walker threat was more serious than he thought. He’d have to find a way to keep his wives further south. Robb wasn’t going to like what he had to tell him. The girls wouldn’t understand. He felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. Jon’s ki said more than words ever could. 

“Remember the words of William.” Robb’s eyes widened. 

“Every night I’ve thought about them. That’s why I agreed to this trip. I wanted to travel far from the wall and my responsibilities.” Robb said. 

“Whose William?” Daenerys and Hossi asked together. Ayi remained lost and began cleaning the cave.

Robb and Jon stared at each other until Jon decided to take the lead. Hossi was his wife to be, and he’d explain everything. “William was a member of the Night’s Watch. A group of men who swear to defend the realms of men from Maegi, ice demons, and their master beyond an eight-hundred-foot-tall wall of ice. For 8000 years their order has stood strong even as belief in the demons and their master diminished.” Jon said. 

“Now they’re used to dispose of outlaws and the unwanted. Instead of battling demons and Maegi they kill wildlings beyond the wall.” Robb added. 

Jon glared at his brother who smiled sheepishly. 

“William claimed to have encountered these demons and escaped them. Instead of warning his brothers of the night’s watch, he fled south to save himself. Only when he was captured and faced the crime of cowardice did he inform us of the white walkers.” Jon said and shook his head. “His word was worthless, but we had to check. If there was a chance, we were facing a white walker invasion, we had to be sure.” Robb tossed him a water skin and Jon drank from it. “There are powers of magic still around from the long night. Earth singers still live on the isle of faces.” Jon said. 

“Wait do you mean children of the forest?” Daenerys asked. Ayi hissed at the Targaryen girl. Jon walked over to her and rubbed the girl’s shoulders to calm her down. 

“I do not know these children of the forest.” Hossi said. 

“They inhabited Westeros before our ancestors traveled the land path between the disputed lands and Dorne. At the time, the first men called them children of the forest, but they called themselves earth singers. Our people had intercourse with many of them and that’s were greenseers come from. Seed the leader of the earth singers on the Ilse of faces is our many times great grandmother. So, don’t blow it up Robb or you’ll be a kin slayer.” Robb saluted Jon with his middle finger before shaking his head. 

“Someone should have written this stuff down. Did great granny Seed Stark mention which one of our ancestors she laid with?” Jon raised his hand and launched a weak blast at Robb. His brother chuckled and backhanded the blast out the cave. Daenerys gasped while Robb laughed. 

Jon rolled his eyes. “She claimed the kingdom was about to reach a period of unrest. The white walkers are aware of the situation by an unknown means. The long night is set to come again timed with a great unrest.” Jon shook his head. “My greensight shows me the past, the present, and the future. I saw a total enemy victory.” Jon said. 

“What does that have to do with me?” Daenerys asked. 

“Nothing at all. But its rude to discuss worldly events in front of you without giving you context. This isn’t as bad as I say. The summer isn’t even over.” Jon faced his brother. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t keep my wives in the North. Once the wall falls, I expect the dead will sweep until we split off a section of the North.” Jon said. 

Robb closed his eyes and paced. “You can’t mean to crack the North down to the world’s foundation.” Robb pointed his finer at Jon. “You warned me against it. If you aren’t careful you could destroy the planet.” Robb said. 

“It isn’t the first option, but I won’t take any option off the table. We should start with the night’s watch and begin debating the destruction of the far north.” Robb opened his mouth and closed it. Jon shook his head. “We can discuss this further later. Where’s Theon, I can’t sense his double anywhere?” Jon asked. 

“I sensed him dispel a while ago. We should figure out how we’re getting them back. The Khal’s men are probably searching everywhere for them.” Robb said. 

Jon looked for any hints of a lie from Robb. When he found none, he relaxed a bit. Getting back wouldn’t be too difficult. Flying them at a reasonable speed would be dangerous. After moving so fast the air can rip normal people apart. Even if he moved at a modest 100 leagues an hour it would still be painful for them. They’d need to fly a short way then stowaway on a ship. It was going to be a long flight to Essos. 

“I’m not leaving without my dragon eggs.” Daenerys said. 

Robb tossed a large leather bag on the ground. Three dragon eggs clunked to the ground. 

Jon sighed and grabbed Hossi and Ayi. Robb repacked the dragon eggs and they leapt from the mouth of the cave. After a moment of flying Jon used his ki sense to pinpoint his other body. Hours after flying they landed on a merchant ship halfway out the port of Pentos. 

Pentos hadn’t fared well after Daenerys was stolen. Smoke drifted up from the city and soon flames could be seen even a hundred leagues from the city. The captain of the vessel said nothing as Jon stared at the ruin. Hossi puked over the side of the ship while Ayi comforted her. Jon contemplated blowing up the city to put them out of their misery. 

…

Robert

Robert didn’t like seeing the blasted red eyed wolf leap out of the underbrush with a boar wiggling between its jaws. The white wolf was too quiet especially for a wolf a head taller than Robert’s own warhorse. When the creature neared him, Robert felt a chill. The whole hunting party felt colder when the wolf neared. It happily let the boar free only to chase it down again. To the great wolf even a fully grown boar was a toy. Each of the boar’s tusks bled from being chewed off. The wolf was smart enough to remove its toys only defenses. What if it decided it wanted to play with one of his knights? He wouldn’t do a thing if it decided to play with the king slayer. 

It bumped up and nuzzled Ned’s bastard while the boy rode. Even the boy’s horse seemed used to the great beast. All of the Stark household seemed used to the mighty white wolf. The beast only seemed to grow larger and more powerful. His bannermen whispered like old maids about the wolf devouring swords it stole from Winterfell’s blacksmith. Some say the beast was some god come to watch over the Starks. Seven bless Ned and his family but Robert was sure that creature was a demon. 

“I’d hate to fight that thing on a battlefield.” Lancel Lannister his squire said. Robert snorted; he hated the boy, but he hated all the Lannisters. Well, Tyrion was fun to drink with. The Imp could drink and whore with the best of them. 

“Wine,” Robert demanded and quenched his thirst with and arbor sour. “When have you fought on a battlefield.” Lancel bowed cowed for now. “Imagine it one your side. If it were trained well it would wreak bloody havoc on enemy encampments especially at night. In the snow it was invisible. There isn’t a wound on it after snatching up that boar. Remember that if you ever think you can our speed it. Have you seen it leave tracks in the snow?” Lancel shook his head the boy looked scared pissless. “That’s because it isn’t. Not only is it nearly invisible in the snow, but it also doesn’t leave tracks. Remember that Lancel.” The Lannister nodded. 

“What would you do to kill it?” Robert chuckled. Why would he? Ned’s boy wasn’t going to rebel. No, despite how unnerving he felt about the direwolf it was on his side. “Why would I want to do that?” Robert said. 

The dogs yipped and he kicked his charger giving chase. A tall proud stag shot from the under-brush half exhausted from the dogs. “Father, I want to kill this one for its horns.” Joffrey shrieked. 

Robert stared at his oldest son smiling jovial but on the inside he felt unsettled. That was the spirit, Joffrey never shied away from killing. If the boy inherited anything from him it was that. Unfortunately, his mother’s cruelty and vindictiveness were a bad mix with it. There wasn’t an ounce of mercy in the boy for anything living. He reached out with a great hand and placed it on his son’s shoulder. 

“You go for it boy.” He whispered in a harsh voice. “Aim true and kill it with one blow. You don’t want it to thrash and snap one of its horns.” His son nodded and readied his spear. He saw every look at his boy and begged the seven his son wouldn’t embarrass himself. Cercei wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if her poor baby boy was made fun of because he missed a spear thrust. She was the type to aim the boy’s spear for him. Poor Sansa, Robert shook his head that one was in poor taste even for him. 

Not when thrusting wood and iron at a swift stag most only get one shot. At the perfect time when the dogs pushed the tired stag towards them Joffrey kicked his horse and charged forward. The horse and the dogs were trained by the best the seven kingdoms had to offer. Failing to get the stag at this point was either due to abysmal luck or a lack of talent. 

His spear shone with the sun a bit too clean. No blood had been spilled on it yet. Of all the hunts his son had been on he’d never spilled blood on his hunting spear. Joffrey held the spear wrong as he charged and aimed for the wrong spot. The stag may die eventually but it would be over hours of agonizing pain. Robert would have to slit the poor animal’s throat himself or have one of his men do it. Already he felt embarrassed for the boy. 

In the last second before the spear could plunge through the stag it dove to the side. Joffrey growled, turned, and stabbed his spear. Unfortunately, the thrust was shallow. The Stag twisted its neck and charged. 

Sandor kicked his horse and rushed to intercept but Robert knew the sword shield would be too late. A white blur shot across the field in the blink of the eye and snatched the Stag by its haunches. The wolf turned its neck side to side and Robert heard the creature’s spine snap. With a lazy toss the wolf released the stag. Joffrey happily stabbed at the pour creature while it spasmed and moved its front hooves uselessly. 

Robert turned to Ned who looked relieved. The king didn’t feel the same. In some ways if Joffrey died, it would have been better. He was a terrible father to say it but he’d rather Tommen were king after him. The realm would love sweet Tommen like they never would himself or Joffrey. 

With a great bellied laugh Robert put on the mask of his old self. It was easier to be jovial with Ned around. 

“Your son’s wolf is something else. I’ve never seen a beast so large or so gentle with children.” He remembered Cercei yelling at Myrcella about going on the hunt. He shook his head that girl followed the white wolf around Winterfell putting bows in its fur. He still saw a few pink ribbons and long white braids handing from the wolf’s sides. 

“I don’t know why the Starks of old didn’t keep dire wolves. They were easily trained. Look there,” Ned pointed. 

Robert turned to see Greywind Robb’s direwolf poking its head through the dense woods. The wolf while not larger than Ghost was still larger than a pony. It surveyed the hunting party with ears pointed up and rotating. This was more like a guard checking on its charges than a beast. 

“Aye, they are smart.” Robert paused letting the conversation lapse. “What is this I heard about your boys looking for men? It seems the second you leave your son is going to raise a host. Does he think a war is about to break out?” Robert joked. 

“Its my brother Benjen. There is talk of wildlings going missing from their villages, corpses disappearing, and strange whispering on the wind.” Ned said. Then the man had the audacity to wink. 

Robert chuckled lightly before sobering. “Thank your son for me Ned. If that wolf hadn’t been there Joffrey wouldn’t gotten gored. I’d never hear the end of it from Cercei.” Robert said. “Maybe I’ll give the night’s watch a few more soldiers.” 

…

Jon sat in Winterfell’s library. Dust covered the higher shelves were no one had chosen a book in years. The silence in the room was deafening as they waited for someone to speak. 

Visions of his home covered in ice, the dead roaming its hall, and his sister’s death wouldn’t leave him be. It was a possible future. He felt that the only way to be sure it wouldn’t come to pass was to destroy the land of always winter. If that section of the world was destroyed, then the white walkers would go with it. Robb disagreed so a new strategy had taken root. They would train soldiers in the ways of ki. 

“This can go wrong in many ways.” Jon said the words because they needed to be voiced. Theon snorted and Robb grumbled into his hands. 

“Always the pessimist, I hope you got laid a lot on our vacation.” Greyjoy said. 

Jon buried his face in his hands. “You dispelled; shouldn’t you know?” Jon said. 

“I’m not into watching other people fuck Jon.” Theon yelled. 

“Could have fooled me.” Jon muttered. 

“Enough the both of you. We can’t put this off.” Robb said. 

This time Theon buried his head. “If we do this the secret will come out. Our men will eventually get captured, interrogated, and other armies will match us.” Theon said. 

“Power isn’t static. Even if we started training an army right now it would take at least two years for them to reach your power levels. In those two year both of you would have trained and surpassed them. But a hundred men with your power levels is a dangerous thing.”

A piece of parchment laid on the table covered in scribblings. Ink blotches covered the table from various changes. Thus far they only identified three positions in the squads and settled on the number per squad. Each squad would have a captain, a quartermaster, and a chaplain whose duty was to maintain the loyalty of the squad. These squads needed to be closer than brothers. So, they’d train together, eat together, and pray together. 

Jon sensed the man before he heard him waddle in. He looked up from his hands to see Tyrion Lannister glancing at their parchment. “Why ten and not thirty, fifty, or a hundred?” Tyrion asked. 

“What do you want Lannister can’t you see we’re busy?” Theon growled. 

“Truly the three of you look incredibly busy. But this is a library and Lady Stark opened it to me.” Tyrion said. 

“Its to maintain squad loyalty and fewer men are easier to give direct training.” Jon said. 

Tyrion paused at that. “What kind of loyalty are you after? Most men of the North are already loyal to you. I’m sure there are plenty of farm boys who dream of fighting for the North.” Tyrion said. Jon raised his quill to the recruitment section and wrote farm boys. 

“May I have a seat. This seems a bit more interesting than picking through your library for the rare book I haven’t read.” Jon pulled out a chair for the halfman. “What is the purpose for these squads?” Tyrion asked. 

“We believe a war against the wildlings is on the horizon. My uncle Benjen says tribes are vanishing leaving nothing behind. That sounds like the gathering of a mighty host.” Robb said. It was a lie, but Tyrion only raised an eyebrow before nodding. 

“How is loyalty a problem, I understand the need for the quartermaster for each squad. A well outfitted unit is one that survives. The chaplain is odd.” Tyrion said. 

“Hey that was my idea. The men need to be unified in their every action. When they retreat it should be together, and when they advance, they should be together. The more unified the better. A chaplain ensures they pray together either to the old gods or the new.” Theon said. 

“We plan to train them in nearly every tactic we can, hand to hand, swordsmanship, archery, horsemanship, sums, economics, battle tactics, smithing, and engineering. When we need them to lead, they must lead and when we need them to follow, they must follow.” Jon said. 

“That will be very expensive. You wish for an elite group who can fit any role you require, are aware of greater strategy, and can work with their own autonomy. But that is the role of lords not farmers sons.” Tyrion looked between Jon, Theon, and Robb. “This must be the beginning of a joke. A Lord’s heir, a bastard, a hostage, and a dwarf sit in a library to discuss the creation of an army. But what will be the punchline? Will we create the greatest force in Westeros, or will it blow up in our faces?” Tyrion took a quill and dipped it in ink. On the parchment he wrote communications officer.


	7. Battle Against The Storm God

Vacation Jon

Lightning flashed down and lit up the night sky revealing a quick forming squall in front of their ship. For a moment everyone was blinded, and a powerful gust threw a sailor overboard. Jon opened his eyes and stared up as a wall of caustic grey clouds approached. Bolts of lightning flashed in the thunder head swirling and spreading over them. A heavy payload of lightning pulled the cloud low threatening to collapse on their ship. Powerful winds pulled them towards the storm as rowers below deck struggled to turn the ship starboard. 

“Get those sails down you sea dogs. If you can’t fasten them then cut them loose. I’d rather row to the next port than get taken by the storm god.” The captain yelled. 

Jon looked over the ship a rough hand grabbed his arm. The captain cupped his hand to Jon’s ear while lightning began falling like rain. “Get below deck your in the way.” The captain yelled in his ear. 

They’d stowed away and paid the captain for his trouble. But neither Rob nor himself had any experience sailing. That didn’t mean they couldn’t get out and push. Jon was certain they could take hold of a few ropes and pull the ship. 

The world slowed around Jon as he focused. Lightning froze mid strike and even the storm ceased its spiral. In this moment Jon focused on the heart of the storm. He sensed nothing; this was just a storm. Jon’s eyes narrowed, was it really just a storm. A wall of lightning fell like rain near the eye of the storm. 

Jon stepped down into the hull of the galley. Men rowed with all their might while sea water rushed in. Men ran back and forth tossing buckets of it from of the ship. All of their struggles might as well have been in silence under the continuous booms of the thunder. Sailors moved from man to man cupping their hand around ears to yell orders. When the orders finally passed to the rowers the ship creaked turning under the powerful waves. 

Beyond the rowers near the cargo hold Hossi, Ayi Robb, and a weeping Daenerys waited. Hossi seemed delirious and Ayi paced back and forth yelling in Dothraki at the top of her lungs. No one could hear the words she mimed through the constant booms of thunder. Daenerys huddled in on herself crying and shaking. Robb leaned against the wall bored. 

Jon shook his head. Where was Theon when Jon wanted him around? He bragged about how the Ironborn were the best sailors. Well, they needed the best sailor now. 

A great blow struck the ship. Water rushed in through the left side and the ship started rolling. The ship was about to capsize if he didn’t do something. Wood splintered around him as parts of the hull threatened to crack apart. Chains attached to the rowers pulled taunt and a few ripped from the hull throwing men hard against the starboard side. 

Jon leapt off his feet and pushed. If he didn’t use telekinesis to spread his strength out, he’d rip right through the hull. Robb pushed on another section flying like Jon. The ship slowed it death roll while men fell to the right side of the ship. More cracks spread through the hull just as the ship righted itself. 

The men able to get back to their stations rowed with all their might and the ship jerked forward. Sea water spung in through the cracks and men rushed to bucket out the water while the rowers gave everything they had. 

Some of the men were beaten up by the near capsize but none died so far. Jon wiped some sweat from his brow and flew out to the deck. 

Not a man was left on deck after the near capsize. The sails were up, and the ship was turned. Jon couldn’t sense any sparks left from men in the ocean. Lightning fell like rain striking the water. If they had drifted a little closer to the storm the lightning would have hit. Instead, the men who saved the ship fell out and suffered for it. The current from the squall dragged them into the lightning rain. 

One of the bucket men froze and stared at the deck. The booming thunder died down as they left the squall. Before the ship threw them the crew fixed the sails. Not only were they rowing out of the storm, but the sails also made use of the storm’s wind to push them faster. 

He hadn’t sensed a thing from the storm. It had been just that, a storm. Except, Jon saw a figure floating within it. He still couldn’t sense any ki. That was strange. The only one he couldn’t sense who had ki was his master. 

Jon pushed ki through his eyes and his vision extended. He saw through the storm to the man behind the squall. 

From the storm a man floated up from within the storm. Crows flocked around this being as it hovered in the air. A large raven with three eyes stood on the entities shoulder. In the man’s right hand was a spear shaped like a lightning bolt. Long white curls hung lankily from the man’s head covered in golden beads. Around his body was a robe of black feathers crackling with lightning. 

Jon shot out from the ship and crossed the distance in an instant. The figure twisted to face Jon a look of furry purpled his face. “How dare you enter my domain mortal? I can smell the blasphemous scent of dragons on you. I’ll strike the scales from your body and snuff out your flames.” The being said. 

A red aura licked around Jon’s form like dancing flames. Ever cell in his body was screaming battle. The heat in his blood wanted him to kill this pretender who claims the skies. Even his own ki sung with the hunger for battle. The unknown made it better. Jon didn’t know how much to hold back so he’d go full tilt. 

“Greyjoy mentioned an enemy of the drowned god. Some honor less craven who hides behind storms instead of fighting. Is that you, are you the craven storm god my father’s ward spoke of.” Jon said. 

If the deity’s face had been lilac purple from rage before it was a dark violet now. The being’s hair stood on end and lightning blasted in all directions. It didn’t make any pretenses of falling any natural order and shot at him directly. Jon let it hit him. 

The world flashed around him as countless lightning bolts rained down on him and his ki barrier barely registered it. When the lightning ceased raining down, he gleaned some of the range of this deity’s power. 

He was much stronger than Jon thought. Morpho claimed her power level was around 60,000 to 65,000 galactic standards. Jon was a little over three times stronger than Morpho putting him around 180,000 to 200,000. This body was around a quarter of normal power putting him around a little less than 50,000. This guy was a little weaker than Morpho putting him around Jon’s power level. 

“For a deity you are very weak.” Jon thrust his hand forward and his ki blade appeared. He closed the distance and thrust forward. Just before the blow would have ripped through the storm god’s chest the deity twisted out of the way. The storm god spun his spear around and lightning flowed from the squall into the spear. 

Jon raised his hand and released an earth shattering ki blast. The deity’s eyes widened, and he spun his spear in place. Strings of ki ripped away from the blast as a barrier to lighting and god ki absorbed the blast. Jon crossed the distance and stabbed through his own blast using it as a cover. 

While the spear was mid spin Jon’s blade slipped between the guard ready to pierce godly flesh. The storm god screamed, and a field erupted around him. Jon felt lightning shoot through his barrier strike him true. He yelled out and threw himself out of the way of the deity’s thrust. Jon threw his finger’s forward and produced a second blade. 

The deity screamed as Jon’s blade got hit eye. Blood exploded down the deity’s face while the storm god thrashed unleashing planet cracking waves of lightning. Long golden bolts impacted the ocean and great sea beast bubbled up from the sea’s depths. Immense fish large enough to consume vessels like the merchant’s galley floated up dead. 

Jon dropped his extra sword as a bolt struck him. A silent scream escaped his lips as the thunder boomed in his ears. The flesh where the lighting struck quickly blackened and fell away leaving blood and bone. Jon felt his power level drop like a stone. He’d underestimated the deity. 

A spear thrust hit him between the ribs. Jon looked up at the bleeding empty socket of the deity. “I’ll find every dragon spawn and kill you all.” The Deity bellowed. Jon had miscalculated. This storm god was around 70,000 to 80,000. 

Jon felt himself vanish and return to the whole. 

…

Jon 100%

Across the planet Jon shot through the sky shattering the sound barrier as he crossed the half the length of the seven kingdoms. He appeared covered in a roiling red aura. Power radiated from his body in the hundreds of thousands. Jon felt whole once more and stronger than ever. 

The deity turned to see Jon standing fresh. “Thank you for showing me the measure of your power.” Jon said. 

“You know nothing boy. Let me show you the true power of a god.” The world shook and lightning all around the world seemed to flow into the deity. From all around the world bolts leapt into the god funneled in through the spear. The sea itself calmed from a sudden lack of wind. The entire world seemed to lack wind at that moment. 

Jon shot through the sky. His ki blade clashed with the lightning bolt point of the deity’s spear. Their blows flashed between them at superhuman levels. The sound barrier had long sense broken and the sea around them churned. Jon could feel the world heat up around him as they fought. Lightning capable of obliterating planets crossed with Jon’s red ki sword. 

Light flashed blinding him to the world while he instinctively blocked the deity’s strikes. He couldn’t sense him, but Jon had seen him move. Jon had fought spear wielders before, and this deity wasn’t a martial god. In one motion, Jon locked weapons with the deity. 

Master Zamasu had been able to handle and exchange of blows but could this deity. Jon’s hand moved empowered by the red aura of ki around him. Each of his blows rained down with the strength to end worlds. The deity’s own defense was clumsy. Jon threw a punch and shattered the storm god’s shoulder. The limb recovered only for Jon to strike again shattering the storm god’s ribs, his face, his collar bone, and even his neck. All the Jon struck shattered only for the deity to heal. 

Even the storm god’s eye began healing if slower. “You don’t get it do you boy. I’m an old god who’s lived for countless millennia, I’ve had time to store reserves of power all across my domain. I don’t have to overpower you. You’ll run out of energy long before I do, and you can’t heal yourself. One slip up and I win. Then I’ll kill those wenches in that merchant’s ship.” The storm god said. 

Jon shook his head. “You’re right, you’re an old god with all the ailments that plague old men.” A second sword appeared in Jon’s other hand and he raised it. At the elbow the storm god’s hand came free and the spear came with it. Jon snatched the weapon out of the air. 

With a single motion Jon shattered the lighting bolt spear on his knee. Golden light lit the world as the world’s lightning was freed. The golden remains of the spear quickly turned to rust before fading away. Jon watched the storm god’s eyes bulge as he clutched his bloody stump. 

“This world doesn’t need a deity running around causing countless storms.” Jon felt something different. A new vigor filled his body from the destruction of the spear. 

The deity roared and thrust his hand out. A ki blast made of lightning gathered in the storm god’s palm. He cupped the attack and Jon could see the world distort around it. 

“If the world will not have me then, I will have no world.” The deity thrust his hand down aiming his attack at the planet itself. Jon shot down wasting no time. The attack fired as Jon thrust his hand in the attacks path. 

A golden wave enveloped his vision. The power of billions of lightning bolts pushed hard against his barrier aided by gravity. It felt like they were aimed at the core itself. Even the attack felt as inevitable as a lightning strike. Jon pushed everything he had against it. 

Even with everything he had the attack pushed him back. There was no stopping it or running away. The sea opened as the blast crashed down. Water rose up pushed back by the waves. In moments, he’d be done for and so too would be the planet. 

Jon didn’t think about what his father or Master Zamasu would do in that moment. This was on him and him alone. He straightened his stand and stared up. If all he did was push, he wouldn’t get anywhere. Jon charged his ki around his palms. A red blast erupted from his hands and pushed back against the beam. He clutched both hands together to stabilize his own blast and fired against gravity. 

From every corner of his being, he pulled from his power. The angry fire in his blood coaxed him onward. Slowly, his blast took the form of a beam and pushed the golden beam back. Jon felt exhausted but the power kept coming. He should have run out of power long ago but after being reinvigorated the power kept coming. Jon fought against the inevitable golden beam with all his might. 

The red beam ground to a halt against the gold settling a few hundred feet between them. The ocean swirled around him while he fired upward. Just when he thought he couldn’t go on. When even the reinvigoration wasn’t enough the resistance ended. His red beam shot through the air swallowing the gold and vanishing through the clouds. Jon chased it upward as the water crashed around him. 

He floated up to see the storm god mostly gone. The storm god’s body was fading away into golden starlight. “Did my storm deserve such a punishment dragonlord? Without me the drowned god will ravish the world unchecked.” 

“If he runs wild then he’ll share your fate.” Jon declared. 

“You fought me, but I’m not worshipped. A worshipped god is much stronger than I am. With your strength you will fail.” The storm god declared. “I’m feared but no souls pledge themselves to me. The only souls I take are those claimed by my storms. Even then, most drowned and go to the drowned god instead of me. I hate him even more than I hate your forefather. Before Aegon the iron born worshipped me even more than the drowned god. When Harrenhal burned my religion went with it. I supposed you paid the iron price.” The god stared at Jon before raising his hand. “I have little divinity left but it is yours.” The deity said. 

Before Jon could dodge a lighting bolt shot from the deity to Jon. Once again Jon felt invigorated. Before he’d felt like a dying flame but now his flames roared to life again. The storm god vanished in full into starlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey if you liked it or want to give me some advise then leave a comment.


	8. The Comet

Myrcella   
How many times has she done this now? Myrcella didn’t care to keep count. Perhaps, it was hundreds, thousands, or maybe tens of thousands. It was a play, and she knew its actors well. She had slept with every man in Westeros at least once or twice. Even Jon, dear sweet, honorable, and humble Jon wasn’t an exception. His act was the most steadfast. If Jon wasn’t acting normally without a nudge from her, then something was wrong. 

She was frozen in fascination, her first clue that this Jon was different should have been the warhorse sized Ghost. He dressed in a garish garb of black and purple with two balls dangling from his ears. Myrcella felt her hair stood on end and a chill run down her spin. This never happened before and not in this way. Jon could become a greenseer with the right prodding, a warg capable of controlling a thousand wolves, or a dragon rider. He never managed more than one in any lifetime. The night king saw to that. Poor dear Jon Snow the secret heir to the throne of Westeros always died tragically trying to defend the realms of men. She watched two tiny pebbles rotate in the air. While sweat poured down Jon’s face the two stones rotated around him spinning one closer than the other. Neither moved at the same speed. 

A thousand plans came to mind. Seducing Jon Snow was both more difficult and easier than most. The interest of a princess was too much for such a humble boy. Often, he thought she was teasing him. She was often guilty of that. While she gave Robb a few flirtatious looks when Jon watched, she gave Jon even more. It was a game of hers in some lifetimes to see how jealous she could make one of the other until Robb attacked Jon. She never witnessed it happening the other way around. It wasn’t in her Jon’s nature to act on envy. 

“Are you lost princess?” Jon said. 

His voice held a confidence she’d only heard when he became a dragon rider in his own right. Not like the times he barrowed one of Daenerys’ dragons. This was the confidence of a Jon chosen by the dragons. Had he found an egg and made it hatch this early? How, had she accidently caused it? That could be it, she was one to send butterfly wings flapping. That wasn’t a bad thing, knowing an early trigger was a good thing. When she was better prepared to fight the night king against, she would draw light bringer once more. Time was what she needed most, and her light bringer had never been this ready before. But that raised a new question. Should she act now and see where this goes or restart and repeat events. Myrcellas was great at finding triggers. 

“Is that sorcery Ser Jon?” Myrcella said. 

She kept her face a genuine mask of innocent honed over a thousand years of out acting the actors of king’s landing. Plans to murder her dear father, mother, and Joffrey came one after the other. Uncle Jaime could live for now a trustworthy sword was always welcome. She’d have to get proof from Eddard Stark and the support of her grandfather. Bran hadn’t fallen so no catspaw will enter his room. Her face scrunched up. A Lannister Stark alliance was always unstable. Her tragedies with Robb early on showed her that. Even if they survived the night king always got them in the end. Only her lightbringer could kill the night king but it needed to be tempered properly. It must be tempered with the fire of the dragon, the flexibility of the greensight, and the icy force of warging White Walkers. Floating objects were new and that excited her more than finally completing lightbringer. She had thought to spend this lifetime fucking prince Trystane but her sword needed her attention more. 

The rocks fell to the ground and Jon rose to his feet. Jon bowed but not low enough to show any true reverence or a feeling of humility owed to royalty. Already, she saw signs of a difference in her Jon. Someone had touched her sword and she didn’t like it. Fortunately, it was Jon, her list of suspects was small. 

If she had to kill Melisandre this early, it would be a pity. There was no easier way to kill Renly than with Uncle Stannis and his fire witch. She rolled her eyes at the woman. Calling her uncle, the hero chosen by the lord of light was a bit much. 

Sansa was a suspect but at this stage the girl was more a sheltered princess than herself. A small smirk crossed her lips. Getting stabbed to death by whites killed the sheltered princess in her quite quickly. While Sansa often makes Jon a little bolder it was the stupid boldness of a hidden affair. She wanted to close her eyes and stomp her feet in revulsions. Even if they’re cousins that was disgusting. 

That time he hooked up with his Aunt was even worse. Their children were some insane little bastards as bad as Joffrey ever was. No, her lightbringer wasn’t going to bang his aunt ever. Fortunately, it wasn’t on purpose. Jon has been lied to his whole life. She hoped beyond hope he’d only found one of the few books of real magic in Winterfell. While they didn’t appear often, the Jon’s that found them were strong. It was never enough. The night king is a monster with powers beyond any iteration of her lightbringer before. Floating a stone won’t save Jon from being splattered against the ice. 

“That depends on your point of view my princess. And I’m not a ser yet, but its sweet of you to say so.” There it was a familiarity that she couldn’t miss. It was too early. What if he already had a dragon? That could mean Daenery’s death as well. With stronger magic the witch from Assai was a force to be reckoned with. Still, it would be very unbecoming of her to let Jon off the hook. Taking him in hand early was always a good idea. 

“The Seven-Pointed Star teaches us that sorcerers are untrustworthy. Magic is a blade crafted by the smith, but it was never fitted with a handle. It’s dangerous, are you sure you should use it?” Myrcella said in her most impish voice. This was more a test to see compare this Jon to his others. 

Jon brushed his hair back flicking drops of sweat in the air. The droplets hovered there shining like tiny orange or pink gemstones in the evening sun. Jon lifted a finger and all the sweat gather to the tip of his finger before spinning. Slowly the sweat crystalized becoming ice. The act seemed a little easier than his exercise with he rocks. Never had she seen such a fine level of control from magic. 

Then she remembered two things, Jon isn’t a liar and he said it wasn’t magic. But how could that be?

A small ice crystal hovered just above Jon’s fingertip. It was a display of power that she’d never witnessed before. A fourth power unlike any her lightbringer had ever displayed had appeared. It decided she could live another ten thousand lifetimes and never discover all of Jon’s depths. She could tell it was still in its infancy. 

Myrcella giggled. “It’s so beautiful Ser Jon. Why don’t you try hatching a dragon’s egg next? I’m sure if you do father or grandfather will betroth us by sunset.” She curtseyed and waited for his reaction comparing him to all the Jon’s she’d met. Each had their own flavor of honor and chivalry. 

“I would never disgrace you in such a way. Besides, I’m no Targaryen. You know what I am, I’m sure Robb told you.” Jon said. Once upon a time when he claimed that his love would disgrace her, she’d cry all night. Nightmares of her deaths plagued her without Jon and when he died, she always felt it. 

She had planned to drown herself in Dornish wine and an eager Dornish Prince. The dreams might not chase her so fiercely in Dorn. She’d almost pushed Bran herself to help facilitate it. If the war had one good thing going for it, it was sending her to Dorn. 

She skipped to his side on the feet of a trained water dancer. “I don’t know of any other house who can do magic. You’re special Jon, I can see it even if no one else can. Even if you fail, I won’t tell anyone, it will be our secret. Your practice will be our secret too. Be more careful about it when you get to king’s landing, little birds are everywhere.” Myrcella said. 

One of the most important parts of planting seeds was knowing when to withdraw. She wanted him to know she was trustworthy, and others weren’t. People loved an us versus them conflict. Marking herself in the us camp was important. Planting the seeds of spies early might let Lord Eddard live longer. With a bit more work she was certain Jon would be wielded easily. He was her weapon after all, and she loved him for it. Her lightbringer fortunately had a handle and in a few years, she’d be ready to wield it again. 

…

Jon 

After meeting the strangest 9 name day old he’d ever met Jon decided to watch the stars. Some would be planets drifted through the night sky. The eye of the ice dragon glared North as always, and an energy signature appeared at the edge of his senses. It shown like a bonfire to the sparks across the world. He saw a flaming comet shoot through the atmosphere and descend northward towards the wall. Jon leapt off the tower and landed lightly on the ground. He only saw a slight glimpse of flesh and heard the word’s of Ser Jaime. 

Jon looked up to see the golden lion staring down at him. “Are you alright, what were you doing on the roof?” A boom shook the tower threatening to rip it from its foundation. The rest of Winterfell started to shake just from the comet’s entry. 

Still, that was nothing compared to the impact. Whole bricks fell down from the broken tower and the ground shook as if it were the deck of a ship during a storm. He heard gasp and hushed whispers of Cercie but Jon didn’t pay it much mind. Robb, Sansa, and Arya often watched the stars together with him as well. There was something entrancing about the night sky’s beaty. 

Torches lit all around Winterfell as his father’s seat of power went on full alert. “Jon, what in the seven hells is going on. Why were you on top of the tower and how did you survive the fall?” Jaime asked. 

It took the King’s guard less than a minute to get down the stairs. Jon turned his head to the snow. “The snow is really thick in this part. Don’t tell my father but I fell off before and landed here. If you know how to fall just right, you’ll suffer no injury.” Jon said. 

“Did you see anything on your fall?” Jaime asked. 

“No, my focus was elsewhere. Did you see the comet before it struck?” Jon asked. 

Jaime shook his head. “I missed it. Why did you stay behind during the king’s latest hunting trip?” Jaime asked. 

“Lady Stark says I am unwelcome. Robb needs time with Lord Stark before they part.” Jon said. 

“She should have told the king that. With him around, I doubt your brother will spend much time with Lord Stark.” Jaime said. 

“Did you see the shape of the comet?” Jon asked. The blonde-haired man shook his head and stared at the night sky. 

“No, I can’t say that I have.” Jaime said. 

“It didn’t look like a flying rock.” Jon said. 

Jaime placed a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “We’ll deal with this in the morning. I doubt its going anywhere. Get some sleep, you’ll help me into my armor before we head out.” Jon nodded and left for his room in Winterfell. 

…

Myrcella sat across from him starring while he broke his fast. On the table apple dumplings soaked in their buttery bath, a whole boar rested from being cooked, and over a three dozen eggs piled on top of a vast bowl of white rice. Jon’s hands moved in a blur feeding himself from the many trays of food. The boar had been caught by Ghost earlier and left for the castle cooks. Most of the apples were picked by Robb, Theon, and Jon on their flights. A few peaches were given to the local winery and had already churned out a few bottles. Oranges rested in a pile in an emerald bowl. Jon took one and jabbed a hole in it before squeezing it out in a cup.   
“I’m starting to understand why you weren’t at the feast.” Myrcella said and took hold of one of the oranges. She slid a delicate nail through the peel and shucked the rest like corn. After taking a bite her eyes widened in delight. “This is excellent.” Her eyes narrowed at him before Queen Cercei walked in. 

“There you are sweetling, Tommen was looking everywhere for you.” Jon swallowed a bite then stood and bowed. “Please go back to your meal. Jon wasn’t it. I wasn’t aware of a feast scheduled for the morning.” 

“Mother you should stay and watch, the chefs are still busy in the kitchen.” Myrcella said. Jon took a bowl of rice and began devouring it rapidly. 

He’d trained most of the night and needed to recover. Moving objects with his mind was more difficult than he’d like to admit. Dealing with the queen and the princess wasn’t his idea of a pleasant meal. Already the queen’s green eyes worked to search for some leverage she could use over him. 

“Does lord Stark know you’ve ordered his chefs to cook?” Cercei asked. 

Jon wiped his mouth. “Yes, this is a normal meal. Theon and Bran are late, but Theon was in winter town and Bran fell and broke his leg. Maester Luwin says he’ll make a full recovery.” Jon said, drew some Yitish chopsticks, and pulled away pieces of boar. 

“I understand he is a little climber, did his injury result from a fall?” Cercie asked. 

“Summer spooked his pony. It kicked low and Bran’s leg was in the way. He’ll be running around again causing trouble with Tommen by the time we reach king’s landing.” The queen looked over the fluffy white rice and eggs. “Is this a traditional dish of the north? I found it absent at our table.” 

“It is Yitish my queen. They call the grain rice. When dried it can be kept for a long time. In the cold of the North, it lasts even longer. Some men may be born, grown, and die before this grain spoils here. Father has imported tons of it. Though its mostly grown in the river lands and the neck. The grain desires a very wet climate to grow. That also makes the grain near impossible to burn.” Jon said. 

“That’s incredible, is it magic?” Myrcella asked. 

Jon smiled and shook his head. “No, it is merely an incredible grain.” 

Cercie poured a glass of peach wine and swirled it around before taking a sip. “Very sweet,” she glanced to the small white corked gourd. “You have some dishes at this table absent from the feast.” Cercie said. 

“Lord Stark wouldn’t give the king something as flavorless as rice and the peach wine was made by Robb, Theon, and I. You should stay away from that gourd your grace. Yitish rice liquor is much stouter than wine.” Jon said. 

“You’re leaving with Jaime to see the comet.” Cercie said. 

“I am your grace.” Jon said. 

“When he told me, you were to be his squire, I was uncertain. You haven’t changed my mind but consider your journey a test. Serve my brother well and you may rise higher than any bastard could hope to. But fail and you’ll find yourself at the wall before your next nameday.” Cercei said. 

“Mother don’t bully Ser Jon.” Myrcella said. The young girl glared at her mother with more heat than Jon expected. 

“I’m sorry sweetling I’m sure he’ll do well under your uncle.” Cercei said. 

“At your leave your grace.” Jon said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading please leave a comment and tell me what you think.


End file.
